


Courtesy of The Master

by arrow_through_my_writers_block



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Arrow - Freeform, F/M, Green Arrow - Freeform, Humor, Mystery, Romance, Team Arrow, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 39,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrow_through_my_writers_block/pseuds/arrow_through_my_writers_block
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. It's been a few months since Slade Wilson wreaked havoc on Team Arrow, and they are slowly picking up the pieces. But when a new villain begins leaving clues for the team to find all over Starling City, it seems danger is here to stay. (slow-burn Olicity)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Delivery Girl

Things began to feel normal again. Or, at least, as normal as things could feel after losing someone Felicity had started calling a friend. Felicity didn't know when Sara had gone from secret rival to best friend, but it happened swiftly and the only one to question the change was Oliver. Suddenly the women in his life were chatting, going out for drinks and developing inside jokes. The looks he gave them were priceless.

That friendship ended with a gunshot. One meant for Felicity. She could still hear the shot ringing in her ears and could still feel the vibration of Sara's body hitting the floor in front of her. Slade had longed for Oliver to make the same impossible choice as the one that ended Shado's life, but he never imagined Oliver would stand his ground.

"I won't do this again, Slade," he had shouted. With his hood thrown back, Felicity glimpsed tears welling up in Oliver's blue eyes; something he rarely let show or escape. "Don't do this."

Slade had let out a laugh, almost a growl, as he waved the gun between Sara and Felicity. "Who will you save, Mr. Queen?" He pointed the gun in front of Felicity and her heart stopped. She closed her eyes tight, waiting for the shot that would end her life. She heard Oliver beg for Slade to stop; no one needed to die. But Slade didn't listen. And then the gun fired. Felicity realized she was still alive and the noises she heard were of someone else falling.

Sara's last moments were full of Oliver's anger and Sara's satisfaction in her sacrifice. Felicity looked on in sadness as Oliver wept for Sara. She wondered if he would have wept for her had Sara not stepped in. She'd never know for sure.

What she was sure of was that Slade would never bother them again. She didn't know what Oliver had done, but Slade no longer taunted them, no longer supported Moira's campaign, and no longer seemed to be a citizen of Starling City. Felicity ignored the biting suspicion that Oliver had actually killed Slade.

The team slid back into their normal routines. Oliver patiently trained Roy. John looked on, worry written on his face, never quite able to trust the mirakuru-infected boy. Felicity worked her magic at her computers and assisted Oliver at QC, enjoying almost every minute.

_And I deliver Big Belly Burger to the guys. Lets not forget that,_  she thought with annoyance as she hurried up the street, her hands full of take-out bags. She resisted the urge to stop and dig her hands into the cartons of fries. The greasy, salty smell was almost intoxicating.

Along the sidewalk, brick walls and fences were covered with campaign posters, handouts for parties and advertisements for businesses in the area. Moira's campaign posters all around the city never failed to be covered with graffiti, especially in the Glades. Felicity passed one with large black lettering covering Moira's smiling face: Murderous Bitch!

Felicity smirked.  _Surprisingly good spelling for graffiti._

She kept walking, making her way towards Verdant. It looked shabby in the daylight, lacking all the extravagance nightlife brought to it. Felicity glanced to the side and found unfamiliar graffiti lining one length of brick wall: Follow the clues, find The Master.

She stopped for a moment and read the message over a couple times, her eyebrows raised. "Well, guess we've got some very pious gang members out there."

She slipped into Verdant through a back service entrance and quickly made her way down the stairs to the lair. She smiled as she saw Oliver on the salmon ladder. She tried to keep her eyes from ogling his body, but failed miserably. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Diggle grinning at her.

"Dinner has arrived," she shouted as she set the bags on a table. Oliver jumped down from the midway point on the ladder, landing with perfect ease. Roy came running over from his place on the sparring mats. All three men began rummaging through the bags like raccoons through trashcans. "Ahem…"

Oliver looked up and Felicity blushed slightly. "Yes, Felicity?" he asked with amusement.

"Does the delivery girl get a tip?" She held out her hand. Roy laughed, his mind clearly going into inappropriate territory. Diggle chuckled. "I mean… well… ugh. Whatever guys. At least save me some fries.

They didn't.

\- - -

Meetings took hold of the entire work day, leaving Felicity bored to death sitting at her desk outside of Oliver's office. She twiddled her thumbs, checked her phone and tried to look busy. Through the glass wall, she saw Oliver nodding impatiently as he listened to proposals from inventors, investors and other fools who thought Starling City was the best place to bring their business. If they only knew the dangers that stalked the city.

One by one, Oliver escorted his guests out and left them in Felicity's care. She put on a smile and asked them if they needed anything before they left the building and told them the have a nice day. After each encounter she looked into the office to find Oliver slumped in his chair, face in hands.

After the last meeting, she decided to talk to him.

She knocked on the door as she entered and he glanced up, his lips twitching as he kept a smile hidden. "Is everything okay?" she asked as she leaned against his desk.

He let out a long sigh. "I suppose being the Arrow is a lot more entertaining than listening to business proposals all day." He grabbed a pen and spun it around between his fingers. "I'm sure being the assistant isn't any better."

Felicity grinned. "Well, I wouldn't say it's the best job in the world. At least I don't have to get my boss coffee." She winked, and immediately regretted it. The awkwardness after the action was palpable. But Oliver simply kept fiddling with the pen.

The mail cart came up and tossed envelopes and one box onto Felicity's desk. "I suppose I should sort through that."

"Go ahead and bring it in. We can sort through it together," Oliver said, sitting up a little straighter.

She brought the mail into the office and they began opening each one. Felicity kept glancing at the box, finding it odd. Oliver rarely received such things, and when he did, she was usually the one who had ordered the contents for him. She slid the package toward her and looked for a return address. There wasn't one. She sliced through the packing tape and folded the cardboard to the side.

Inside, sitting atop a pile of packing peanuts was a simple figurine of an archer, bowstring pulled back tight. Beneath the figure was a note. She dug it out and read it, her eyes locking on the signature.

_Hello Mr. Queen._

_This is your first clue._

_Courtesy of The Master_

"Oliver, I think we have a problem."


	2. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Team Arrow attempt to understand the clue given by the mysterious Master. With a difficult time sleeping, Oliver calls Felicity to gain some sort of ease.

"Oliver, I think we have a problem."

Those words terrified him. He hated the idea of problems he wasn't in control of. He hated surprises. But being the Arrow meant dealing with problems and surprises far too often. It was the only part of the job he disliked.

He raised his head, looking away from the letter he had been skimming to see Felicity staring warily into a box. Her brows were furrowed and it looked as if she were trembling. He resisted the urge to rest a hand on her shoulder to calm her. "What is it, Felicity?"

She handed him the note, and he found proof of her terror as soon as he saw her shaking hand. He brushed his fingers against hers as he took the note from her.

_Hello Mr. Queen._

_This is your first clue._

_Courtesy of The Master_

He read the words over and over. The fear Felcity felt seemed strange, but he had yet to see the contents of the box. "Felicity, what's the clue?"

She held up a wooden figure, whittled by a professional. It was an archer with a hood. Felicity's fear suddenly became clear.  _Someone knows who I really am._

"Well, it's a good thing the day is almost over. We need to take this to the team, see what they think about it." He spoke calmly, attempting to keep his nerves from jumping out of his skin.

"Oliver," Felicity stammered. "This can't be good. I mean, every time someone has known your true identity, it hasn't worked out well for us. Well, except for us: Me, Digg and Roy. And Sara." She lingered on that thought with sadness. Oliver tried not to think about it. "I have a bad feeling about this. He knows you're the Arrow. That the Arrow is you. What if-"

"Felicity," he interrupted.

"Yeah...?"

"Please stop. We just need to show this to the team. All right?"

For a few moments, he thought she would protest and begin another tangent about how scary the situation was.  _I know how scary it is._  He loved her concern. It reminded him that there were people who weren't simply attached to the mission; some people were attached to him and cared about his well-being. But sometimes it was difficult to handle.

Finally she nodded, her eyes dancing about the room in embarrassment. "All right."

* * *

"This isn't good, Oliver," John Diggle said as he turned the figurine over in his hands and read the note.

"I'm well aware of that fact, Digg. Thank you," he said, his patience running thin. "But what are some other thoughts."

Digg continued to examine the figurine, squinting at the woodwork.

"Well, if you ask me," Roy began, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I think you have a secret admirer. And I think we all know who might be nerdy enough to try something like this." Roy eyed Felicity. Oliver was grateful her back was turned. Her embarrassment would be overwhelming.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Roy," Felicity called over her shoulder as she went through all the security measures.

Oliver glared at Roy and shook his head. His brotherly teasing was often just what the team needed, but at other times it wasn't appropriate.

Roy gave a slight pout and then went back to reading the note.

"No return address, correct?"

"Right."

Diggle set the figurine on the table and crossed his arms, never letting his eyes leave it.

"Is it too hopeful to say it's just a joke?" Roy asked.

Oliver sighed. "Who would leave a joke like this? Only the three of you know who I really am."

"Are you sure?" John asked, turning toward Oliver with such an intensity that he felt small. "I mean, you didn't think you'd ever see Slade again, but he came here and nearly destroyed this whole operation. We lost Sara as a result. What makes you so sure that no one else is still out there, wishing Oliver Queen and his Arrow persona would disappear?"

Oliver puzzled over the question. He wasn't sure. If Slade could come back, what made it impossible for others to make their way to Starling City to take him out. But he knew no one who would go to elaborate lengths to destroy him. They are quiet, subtle and trained to take targets out without notice. They would never play games.

"I'm sure," he lied, his heart beating slightly faster.  _Keep it together._

"How about we call it a night?" Felicity asked, leaving her desk. "Nothing seems to be going down on the crime front tonight and I've been really itching to catch up on the latest season of  _Girls_." She paused for a moment, then shook her head. "Not saying that a television show is more important than our mission or anything. But everything seems quiet tonight."

Oliver sighed. "All right. Let's come back tomorrow morning and try to figure this out."

Digg and Roy gathered their stuff and went up the stairs and out of the lair. But Felicity stayed by her computer, awkwardly holding onto her coat.

"Why haven't you left? I'm sure that show of yours is really calling to you right about now."

Felicity looked up at him, her eyes bright with concern. "I can tell this is scaring you a lot more than you're letting on."

He hesitated before nodding.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, okay? Or come by. I'm just gonna be burrowed under blankets on the couch." She let out a sigh. "Not that you needed to know how I spend my time away from here."

"Enjoy your night, Felicity. I'll let you know if I need anything."

She nodded and made her way out of the lair, her brightly colored coat leaving a dark void where it once was folded on her chair.

He paced the floor, running everyone he'd known on the island in his head. Their habits. Their methods. None of them seemed to be the type to leave clues like a sinister scavenger hunt. This had to be someone new. And the uncertainty terrifed him.

* * *

Oliver tossed and turned in his makeshift bed in the lair. His mother's lies and the revelation about Thea's paternity had driven him away from Queen Manor. He rarely ventured there; his only reason for stopping by was to see Thea. But with Thea running Verdant, he didn't have to go home much.  _That is not home..._  he thought to himself as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Somewhere above, people were dancing and drinking; having the time of their lives. He glanced around, seeing the shapes of their gear and equipment in the darkness.  _This is home._

The night began to drag and sleep would not embrace him. Impatiently, Oliver grabbed his phone and thumbed through his contact list. He kept scrolling back to one name: Felicity.

With hesitation, he clicked on her name and pressed the 'Call' button. Half a ring later, Felicity answered. "Oliver? Is everything okay?"

Some of his worry lifted at the sound of her confusion and concern. "Yeah," he said. "I remembered you said that I could call you."

A small silence filled the connection between their phones. "Yeah... I did."

"So I'm calling you."

"Yeah..."

"So... How's your night going?" he asked, awkwardly. He remembered being so much better at communicating with women.

"It's fine. I was about to head off to bed actually."

Oliver brought his palm to his forehead in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! I'll let you go."

"No!" Felicity shouted into the phone, and he pulled it away from his ear. "Please don't. I can stay up."

"Thanks, Felicity."

"So what has you up this late? Working the salmon ladder thing?" A lengthy pause began. Oliver grinned with amusement. Finally she spoke again. "I mean... are you working out?"

Laughter escaped Oliver's lips, reminding him of how little he laughed. Their lives were so serious and their mission too important to think about such things. And losing Sara had torn away most of his humor. He often found himself pretending to be his old self. He wondered if anyone noticed.

"Oliver. Please stop laughing." Felicity begged.

He took a deep breath and then said: "Okay... No, I wasn't working out. I was trying to sleep, but that clue is really getting to me." He waited for a moment before saying: "You're right. It  _is_  scaring me more than I'm letting on."

"Well, I was thinking about it too, and I remembered something." She waited for him to question her. When he didn't, she continued. "Well, yesterday when I was bringing back the food, I saw some graffiti on a wall not far from the foundry."

"What'd it say?" Oliver asked, unsure where this was going.

"'Follow the clues, find The Master.'"

He sat up in his bed, his heart pounding. All the amusement from moments before disappeared. "Tell me where."

"Why don't we both go? I'll meet you outside Verdant."

Oliver sighed. "Felicity, just tell me where it is."

"No. I'll just show you. Meet you outside Verdant in twenty minutes." And then she hung up, leaving Oliver to wait impatiently for twenty minutes.


	3. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity search for clues outside of Verdant, and then learn little tidbits about one another.

Felicity wrapped her coat tightly around her as she walked down the street. She never parked her car near Verdant for fear of people noticing her constant presence there. Giving away the location of the lair was a fear each member of Team Arrow possessed. Too many people had found out about it or her for them to not be cautious.

The only problem with parking so far was the long walk she needed to make in the dark. Usually she had Digg or Roy looking after her along the way, but tonight she had no such protection. She knew if something were to happen that she was close enough for Oliver to hear her scream.  _But nothing is gonna happen. Nothing._

With Slade gone, she often forgot how dangerous their secret lives were. But now there seemed to be a new threat.  _The Master,_ she thought to herself.  _Someone has an ego._

Verdant came into view at the end of the street as she turned a corner. The bright lights of the entrance illuminated the length of the road, turning potholes into puddles of shadows and alleys into ominous black holes. She looked ahead and scanned the scene for Oliver. She found him quickly.

He was turned toward her, his face hidden by darkness as if her were wearing the hood. She checked her watch.  _Two minutes late._

Oliver caught sight of her and waved before jogging over to her. She resisted the urge to throw her arms around him. Instead, she turned back toward the length of wall she'd seen the message.

"This close to Verdant?" Oliver asked, worry threading its way through his furrowed brow and into the tightness of his jaw.

She nodded. "I thought it was some new religious thing, so I didn't really put much stock in it. That's why I didn't think about it when we got the clue."

Oliver sighed as they came up to the wall and she pointed. But it was no longer there. City workers had gone over the bricks with new paint. There wasn't even a hint at the graffiti. "I promise you, Oliver, it was right here!"

"Relax. I believe you," Oliver answered, bringing a comforting hand to her shoulder hesitantly. She closed her eyes at the contact. Then an idea came to her.

"Maybe there's a clue around here somewhere. Maybe that was just to get our attention to find  _more_  clues." She rushed over to the wall and pulled her cell phone from her coat pocket. She thumbed through the menu and found her trusty flashlight app. She turned it on and began searching the dirt, garbage and weeds for clues.

She could feel Oliver's eyes watching her. She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he only thinking about The Master, or was there some small bit of him thinking about her?  _He's not over Sara,_ Felicity reminded herself, a pain itching its way into her chest to rest over her heart.  _He may never be over her._

"Felicity?" His whisper was almost unheard thanks to the pounding music escaping the doors of Verdant.

She turned. His eyes were dull with fatigue. "Yeah?"

"Let's go back to the foundry."

She glanced back down at the ground, hoping she'd missed a clue, or that one had magically appeared in the seconds she looked away. "I'll come out here in the morning and keep looking."

Oliver nodded. He held a hand out to her. She took it without hesitation and jumped over the collection of trash that lined the curb. As soon as she was over the obstacle, Oliver released his grip.

Felicity did not protest. She did not attempt to keep their hands locked. She respected his boundaries, no matter how much it hurt.

They hurried around the back of Verdant, into the service entrance and towards the lair. They encountered no one on their way, and they breathed sighs of relief as they closed the door behind them and went down the stairs.

Felicity looked around and found the makeshift bed Oliver used in place of the one at Queen Manor. The sheet and blankets were a messy pile, confirming what she already knew. He was too worried to sleep. It had been months since he was this worried. She hoped it would pass; she hoped they could solve the mystery quickly so he could have a break from stress-inducing crazy people.  _But with our luck, it'll be only a few months before another lunatic shows their face and brings the stress back._

She unbuttoned her coat and slid it off her shoulders, dropping it onto her computer chair. She was in her favorite sweat pants and an old t-shirt. It was unflattering but very comfortable. She caught Oliver looking at her.  _Probably wondering where my cute outfit is._

"I know..." she said, feeling a blush creeping up her neck and to her cheeks. "This is horribly sloppy and lazy-looking." She tugged at her t-shirt and found remnants of an ice cream stain. "Yeah... I should've changed."

Oliver shook his head. "You look fine, Felicity. Everyone has those clothes they veg out in."

She raised an eyebrow and pushed her glasses up slightly. "What do you veg out in?" She figured if he knew how she spent her nights alone, she should know the same about him.

He chuckled, and she sensed he felt uncomfortable answering. The tension from the matter at hand lifted slightly.

"What?" she asked. "Do you prefer the nude?"

He didn't answer, only glanced up at her through his lashes and grinned, his face full of playful guilt.

"You veg out in the nude... Of course. With a body like that, why not? I mean, you must look in the mirror and think, 'Damn, I like what I see.'"

As soon as she said the words, her eyes closed and a deeper flush spread across her entire face.

"Oh my god..."

Oliver's usual chuckled turned into a laugh -much like the one she heard over the phone earlier. After he regained his composure, he said: "I don't think I've ever thought that... In my life."

She thought about her comment.  _Why would he think something so silly about himself?_  Having been on an island for five years had given him purpose and perspective, an idea of what was truly important in life. Everyone knew Oliver had changed. He was no longer a self-obsessed playboy. Not really.  _I highly doubt vanity was a top priority while dealing with a fight for survival. Not even the people on_ Survivor  _give a crap about how they look. Why would he suddenly go back to that now?_ "Yeah... That was stupid. Pretend that never happened. I never said that."

"Never said what?" Oliver said with a wink that made her heart flutter.

 


	4. Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Master's clues escalate to more dangerous heights, Oliver must come to terms with the risks related to his alter-ego... including the casualties.

John Diggle always reported for duty. Though Oliver never gave him a time to arrive at the foundry, he was always up bright and early in order to get to the foundry by eight in the morning. He never failed to be on time.

He parked his car a couple blocks away. He exited the car, gathered his jacket and holstered his gun before slamming the door and pressing the lock button. His routine was the same each morning. Keeping to that routine saved him the trouble of running late or losing something. His time in the military had made him a stickler for order and consistency. It drove Oliver nuts.

He kept a brisk pace as he made his way toward the foundry. Along the way he scanned his surroundings, always careful and precise. As he turned a corner, he found Felicity's car parked unevenly along the curb. He raised an eyebrow has he passed it.  _Did something happen?_

He ran through scenarios in his head and came back to one conclusion he hoped was correct, though deep down he knew it wasn't. He thought back to Felicity's obvious infatuation with Oliver, hoping she'd finally been given a chance. But Oliver was oblivious to her interest. His relationship with Sara and her recent death had distracted him considerably.

Diggle made it one of his duties to console Felicity, subtly. He reminded her constantly of her worth and importance to Team Arrow; her importance to Oliver. She often brushed him off, attempting to feel strong and in control of her insecurities. But he always saw through her. She was an open book.  _It's a wonder how Oliver can't see how she feels._

Turning another corner, Verdant came into view. During the day it lacked the vibrance it gained at night, with all the neon lights and music escaping its doors. The lair beneath had become a second home to Diggle.

He went around back to the service entrance and through the security door. As he made his way down the stairs, he found all the lights on.  _Unusual,_ he thought.  _Oliver is typically asleep around this time._ A little hope for Felicity sprang up, making him smile.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned toward the bed in the far corner. He found Oliver and Felicity there. Felicity was wrapped up in blankets with one sweatpant covered leg sticking out. Her head rested in Oliver's lap as he slept, sitting up. Diggle grinned.  _It's a start, I suppose._

He began to switch on the computers quietly, trying not to wake them. As each monitor came to life, he sat in Felicity's chair and waited.

* * *

When Felicity awoke, she imagined she'd be in Oliver's arms. The last thing she remembered was leaning against him while they talked. They talked about nothing important. She told him about the plot of  _Girls_ and why she enjoyed it so much. He told her about Thea's latest complaints regarding Verdant and Roy. He asked for her advice on how to keep Thea in the dark when she was so close to the truth. She kept her answers short, trying not to babble or sound silly.  _Did I succeed in that?_ She couldn't remember much of what she'd said. Falling asleep against him had brushed all her thoughts away.  _He was so warm and so comfortable._

But Oliver wasn't holding her. She sat up. Her glasses were still on, sitting askew atop her nose. She straightened them and looked around. Oliver was drinking some coffee and watching the local news on one of her monitors. Digg was quietly reading the newspaper. She looked down to find herself still in her sweatpants and t-shirt. Her previous embarrassment assaulted her again. She stood up and stretched.

"Is there more coffee left?" she asked as she walked toward the two men.

Oliver stood and went to the coffee-maker and made her a cup. He smiled as he handed it to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She went over to one of the four lockers along one wall as she sipped on the plain brew. She opened it to find her gym bag. Inside she found the clothes she preferred to use for her training, as well as fresh underwear and socks.  _I suppose I'll just wear these today._

She finished off the cup and then went to the restroom to change. She pulled off the baggy clothes and last night's undergarments and changed into fresh ones. She slipped into the tight-fitting work-out clothes, feeling much better as the fabric hugged her curves.  _Much more flattering._ But she thought back to the night before and Oliver's words. He didn't care that she looked like a lazy homebody. She looked in the mirror and found her blonde hair a mess. She turned the faucet to the sink on and wet her fingers before running them through her hair, attempting to untangle the strands. When she was satisfied, she tied her hair up in a ponytail.

She left the bathroom feeling much better about herself. "All right. I'm gonna go out and search for clues."

Digg turned around, confused. "What now?" She explained the graffiti to him, and her attempt to find a clue where it once had been. He nodded. "I'll join you."

They left the lair and she found herself blinded by the sunlight. She squinted as they walked along the sidewalk toward the wall.

Standing in front of it in daylight, she could see slight remnants of the message coming through the new paint. "The message was here. Last night, I looked for clues around the ground, but it was too dark to see anything for sure. I figured I'd check again today."

"I'm not seeing anything out of the ordinary," Digg said after a several minutes, tossing aside a crushed beer can.

Felicity straightened and looked around. "There has to be something here, Digg." She paced, running through ideas, nitpicking each one until she came up with one she thought might bring results. "Maybe there's something on the other side of the wall."

Before Digg could answer she began climbing the wall. Even with the training Sara and Oliver had given her in response to Slade's return months before, as well as Digg's continued instruction, she was still too weak to get up with ease.

"Felicity, wait," Digg said, coming up beside her. He was sitting atop the bricks before she had pulled herself up.

"Thanks for the help," she laughed between attempts to catch her breath.

"I figured I'd let you do it on your own. Practice makes perfect."

"I don't intend to make this a habit."

They jumped down to find themselves inside an abandoned lot for a housing development. With the slowly recovering economy and the aftermath of the Undertaking, most developments had been left unfinished. Especially in the Glades.

Felicity turned to face the wall and was instantly rewarded. More graffiti was scrawled along the length of brick:  _Clue number two in... 3... 2... 1..._

"Um..." Felicity said, her heart beginning to pound.

Digg turned toward her, his eyes wide. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her away, running.

Behind them, a muffled explosion sounded, followed by multiple thuds as debris hit the ground. When Digg was certain they were safe, they turned.

As the dust cleared, Felicity found that section of wall destroyed and a deep hole in the ground beside it. They inched their way towards it, Felicity's hands shaking. At the foot of the hole, she realized it was the shape of a grave.

Inside, a plain wooden casket rested with a note atop it.  _How many have died on behalf of your self-righteous mission?_

Without hesitation, Felicity started running back to the lair. "I'm getting Oliver."

* * *

Oliver pulled his way up the salmon ladder with quick momentum, his muscles burning in the most familiar way. Each move made his mind clear and the night before seem like it was worlds away. The Master didn't exist in those moments.

He was a few notches from the top when the security door swung in and Felicity bolted down the stairs, out of breath and sweating. He looked down at her, concerned. "Felicity, what happened?"

She was bent over, trying to catch her breath. He jumped down and touched her shoulder, hoping the contact would help her calm down. Finally, she looked up at him and said: "I found another clue."

He rushed over and grabbed his hoodie, tugging it on over his sweating skin and zipping it as he ran up the stairs. The morning light assaulted him, making his eyes water. Felicity came up beside him and showed him the way. "Oliver, I need you to stay calm when you see this."

Her words stopped him in his tracks. "Why will I need to stay calm?"

"Trust me, Oliver," Felicity mumbled, her eyes trailing over to the abandoned development down the street. He saw the wall they'd examined last night and found a large section of it missing, bricks scattered all over the street. He could see Diggle looking down at the ground, into a hole on the opposite side of the wall.

He crossed over the debris and went to stand beside his comrade. He looked down into the hole to find a mock grave, and the words he tried not to think about on a regular basis.  _How many have died on behalf of your self-righteous mission?_

He walked away, trying to keep the words away from him. He kicked at the dirt and rocks, swearing under his breath.  _Who is this Master?_ he asked himself.  _Who could possibly know everything?_

"Oliver..." Felicity's voice broke through his frustration, and he turned to find her and Diggle patiently waiting for him. "It's gonna be okay."

He laughed, all his pessimism and all his cynical thought breaking through with each burst and vocalization. "Right. You tell me how that's true."

"Well..." Felicity couldn't answer. Her eyes filled with worry and her shoulders slumped. Diggle shook his head, knowing there was no certainty that things would be okay.

With a final glance at his team, Oliver crossed over the debris again, tossing a few words over his shoulder as he walked towards his motorcycle: "I have something to do."

And he didn't look back. He kept his eyes forward as he put on his helmet and started the bike. He watched the road with expert eyes, his senses alert and ready. He didn't care that Felicity had repeatedly begged him to stop using the motorcycle for everyday use in case someone recognized it. He didn't care that he used the same helmet for both occasions.  _If someone like The Master knows, how hard is it for anyone else to put two and two together?_

In minutes he was on the outskirts of town and pulling into the cemetery. He parked the bike and began the long walk to Tommy's grave. He was the first person he'd lost who made him want to forget his mission; Tommy was the first person to make him consider breaking his promise to his father. In the distance, he saw the headstone. Beneath his name were flowers -most likely left by Laurel- dancing from side to side in the breeze.

Oliver came upon the grave and dropped his helmet in the grass. And then he collapsed, knees buckling beneath him. Everything from the moment he'd lost Sara to losses even further back -his father, Shado, Tommy and even Slade- rushed over him like sequence of crashing waves. He felt overwhelmed. His eyes stung with the tears he'd kept in for months.

After what seemed hours, he finally spoke. "Tommy... hey. Um... I really wish you were here. I have no idea what to do." He paused, breathing in the scent of freshly cut grass. His emotions were beginning to fall back into order.

Oliver reached out and touched the cold granite of Tommy's headstone, the only remnant of their friendship.  _Were we even friends at the end?_

He stood up, feeling he'd gotten no answers and still reeling from the second clue. At a brisk pace, he went to Sara's grave. There he stayed in silence until he heard heavy footsteps behind him.

"Sulking and throwing around all your angst isn't gonna help us find this douchebag."

Oliver turned to see Roy's smug face staring down at him. He groaned. "I don't need this right now, Roy."

"You know, actually you do," Roy persisted, grabbing Oliver's hoodie and dragging him up to face him. "Frankly, I'm sick of your moods. We've done nothing important since Sara died, and I'd like to take out some bad guys. I'd like to get out some anger on someone other than you on the sparring mats. But I've been patient. I've been quiet. I've been all cheery so you could move on. But you're not."

"You don't understand, R-"

"Don't give me that shit, Oliver. I know how it feels to lose someone. But at this rate, we're gonna lose more of the team if you don't man up and face what's coming. Do you even realize that Felicity could've died today? Had Diggle not been there, she could've been in that blast."

Oliver thought back to the hole in the wall and all the debris. It hadn't even registered to him. The dull ache he'd felt since Sara died flared up in a new and painful way. Guilt filled him.

"If you need someone to talk to, talk to Sin," Roy continued with less aggression. "She's going through the same thing you are."

Reluctantly, Oliver nodded.

Roy patted Oliver on the shoulders and pushed him towards the parking lot. "Now get back to the lair before I drag you there myself." 


	5. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver has conversations with friends to help himself cope...

A knock on the door jolted Sin out of her fitful nap. She found herslef sleeping a lot since Sara's death; best to sleep than go around doing  _other_  things. She was dangerous to herself, and she knew better than to disgrace Sara's name by lashing out or destroying what little remained of her future. Another knock drove away the last of her sluggishness.

She stood up, ignoring the mess of Roy's cluttered home. It was the only place she felt safe these days. She tripped over a tennis shoe and stubbed her toe against the leg of the couch. "Motherf-" She lifted her foot up and rubbed the toe to ease the pain.

Finally she got to the door as another sequence of knocks sounded. She opened it to find Oliver Queen. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked, then remembered how much Sara had cared for him. "Sorry. I mean, come in." She stood aside and let him pass, then closed the door behind her. "Sorry about the mess. Roy isn't here, if that's why you stopped by."

Oliver shook his head and tried to smile, but he failed. He looked Sin in the eyes and cleared his throat, finally saying, "I stopped by to see you."

"Me?" This surprised Sin. Except for the occasional interaction during her outings with Roy and Thea, she rarely saw Oliver. He was a recluse compared to his sister. "Why?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," he began, digging his hands his pockets awkwardly. "I know you were close to Sara. She often said you were a second sister to her, and she really cared about you."

Hearing Oliver say those words brought a new pain into Sin's heart and she could feel herself beginning to crumble. Sin always seemed to lose the people she loved. She tried to remain distant from Roy and Thea, always afraid they would be next. Losing Sara dropped Sin into a pit she hadn't been in since she learned of her father's death. She watched Oliver's expressions change from uncomfortable to a painful sadness that reflected her own. "She loved you, Oliver. Truly."

Oliver nodded. He ignored her words when he replied. "If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here. I-I know how you're feeling." He began to pace, expertly avoiding the mess. "I could use someone to talk to."

Sin waited for a few moments, pretending to consider his words. But she'd been ready to burst with anger and sadness and anything else that might've been looking to break free from her heart. "Let's talk then."

And they did. For hours. The daylight slowly began to slink away, inviting the night to take over. They talked about Sara, about their loss, and about how they might be able to move on; if it was even possible to move on.

Eventually Oliver stood. "I'd best be going, Sin."

She followed him to the door, feeling lighter somehow. All the weight and burden she'd been carrying seemed to have lifted from her shoulders. It was still there, but it wasn't constant. "Take care of yourself, Oliver."

"You too."

Before he closed the door, she asked one last thing.  _I have to know._ "You're the Arrow, aren't you?"

Oliver turned his head slightly to look back at her, and all she saw was a slight smirk, and then he left.

* * *

Oliver walked up the steps to the porch of Felicity's home, his guilt weighing him down. From the curtained windows, he could hear music blasting inside. He rang the doorbell, but the music drowned it out. He knocked repeatedly, hoping that would somehow be louder. It wasn't. He sighed.  _Well, this is awkward._

He peered through a gab between two curtains and saw Felicity dancing about her living room in colorful pajamas. Her hair was down and bounced with each movement. He didn't know what song was playing, but he watched as Felicity sang out every line. Even though she could have been hurt in the blast earlier that day, she still found reasons to enjoy herself.  _Why can't I be like that?_ He thought about it and decided that someone had to be serious all the time. In his case, he had himself and Diggle.  _Maybe I can relax a bit..._

He shook his head. The Master was after him, and he almost hurt Felicity. He couldn't relax.

He decided to stop knocking and simply try opening the door. It was locked.  _Good, she's learned her lesson._ Oliver learned the hard way that Felicity's acceptance of the dangerous lives they lived meant leaving the door unlocked. This made it too easy for Slade to get to her. Less work for him. After Sara's death, Oliver begged Felicity to take things more seriously, to lock her door and keep her windows shut. Diggle couldn't stick around 24/7.

He worked his magic on the locks and opened the door within minutes. The music hit him like a wave, muting all other noise. The entry way was clean and tidy. Felicity's selection of coats were hanging from a coat rack, brightening the old furnishings. He stepped into the doorway to the living room and watched as Felicity continued her dance. On the coffee table was a bottle of wine and a carton of ice cream.  _Ah, well we were discussing vegging out last night._

He lost track of the time as he watched her. With each new song, her movements changed. He could hear her voice somewhere beneath the music, cracking with each note not executed. He couldn't help but smile.  _This is her way of dealing with... everything._

Suddenly the music stopped and Felicity turned. Her scream was blaringly loud. "Oliver!?"

He waved awkwardly. "Hey, Felicity..."

She ran over to him and lightly punched his arm. "What the hell!? You nearly scared me to death. How'd you get in? Why are you here? Oh my god, you saw me dancing. This is embarrassing. I can't believe I didn't notice you. Did I not lock my door again?" Her hands covered her face, muffling her tangent. "Oh wait," she continued, looking up between her fingers at Oliver. "You're always breaking into places. How hard is it to jimmy a lock or whatever? Probably as easy as it is for me to hack into something."

"Felicity..."

"...yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

Her hands dropped and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "For what?"

"For not making sure you were okay, and for not relying on you and Diggle after that clue." He stepped closer to her, reaching out and touching her face. She closed her eyes at the contact, leaning in like she'd done so many times before. "I can't lose you, and I could have lost you today. So, I'm sorry for not caring."

He let his hand fall, and Felicity looked up at him with disappointment in her eyes. "Want some ice cream?"

"Do you accept my apology?"

Felicity grinned before walking to the couch and plopping down onto the cushions. "Would I be offering you my ice cream otherwise?"


	6. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Roy set out on a robbery case only to discover another clue from The Master.

The night Felicity spent with Oliver was still clouding her mind. Ignoring her heart and intense attraction to him, he was a wonderful friend. He listened to her. He cared about her. But in front of her was a bright computer screen with alerts blinking throughout the city map. It had been weeks since they'd seen any criminal activity, and suddenly the screens were bright with signals. Oliver quickly suited up and pointed to one little icon on the map. "I'm going after that one."

Felicity's heart raced slightly. It was near her neighborhood.  _Is he doing this for me?_ She simply nodded and gave him the details. "Robbery at a pawn shop. The police are already on their way, but with so many other things going on throughout the city, this isn't their first priority."  _Why is it even yours?_

"I'll be sure and make the clean up easy for them once they arrive," Oliver said, gathering up his trick arrows. Then he looked toward Roy who was pulling on the signature red hoodie. "Roy..." Oliver sighed, hesitation written across his features before he continued. "Pick a case."

Digg stopped cleaning his pistol, his mouth falling open. Felicity spun her chair around to face Oliver, her eyes wide in shock.

"Uh, what?" Roy asked, surprised. "I figured I'd just go out with you."

Oliver nodded slightly. "I think you've learned to control yourself. And I feel that you've grown up enough to handle tough decisions. Pick a case."

Roy came to stand beside Felicity, scanning the map and all of the points of interest. Finally he pointed to one a couple blocks away, still within the confines of the Glades. "That one."

Felicity smiled. "Robbery at an old-fashioned electronic store. Family owned. Police have been called, but it seems they're leaving this one alone as of now."  _One block away from Roy's place, which means one block away from Sin._

Roy rolled his eyes. "Of course, why would they care about some shitty little store selling electronics to the Glades?"

Oliver made his way up the stairs and out the door. Once the door was shut, Felicity heard his voice in her left ear. She'd gotten used to hearing his husky tone. "Keep track of Roy. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her, and she was sure he knew she'd heard his request. She looked to Roy and handed him an ear-piece. "I'll be in touch."

* * *

Oliver zoomed across town on his bike, watching as Felicity's neighborhood came into view. He went past her house, finding it undisturbed. With that quick errand done, he turned the next corner and found himself confronted with the pawn shop. Inside, the lights were out, but shadows scurried about. After years on the island, he'd learned to look closer, to see into darkness most might find impossible.

He could see three hooded men, all of them carrying large trashbags. None of them had firearms.  _One good thing..._ As he parked the bike across the street in an alley, he watched them. They were skittish; they jumped at every sound.  _Amateurs. Maybe even teenagers._ He pressed a finger to his ear and spoke in a whisper. "Felicity, I'll be back soon. This is child's play."

"Got it," was her quick reply.

"How's Roy?"

"Watching and waiting, same as you."

Oliver nodded to himself.  _He's learning._

Oliver left the alley, cutting through yards and then climbing a fire escape to get a better vantage point. The burglars were still hard at work gathering up their spoils. He took out his grappling hook arrow and shot it at the pawn shop. It dug itself into the brick facade and the line tightened. He attached the other end to edge beneath his feet and took a deep breath.  _Time to scare some kids._

He soared above the street for a few moments and then his feet broke through thick retail store glass and he let go of the line and rolled into a low crouch. The sound made all three men duck behind empty shelves. Oliver stood and turned on the voice manipulator. "What could be so great about stealing this much stuff?"

"Please, man, don't kill us," one man exclaimed, jumping out from behind one of the shelves with his arms up in the air, signaling his panic. Slowly, his comrades joined him.

"You aren't worth dirtying my arrows for," Oliver said, a brief grin spreading across his lips. It wasn't often he could toy with petty thieves. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Quickly, he let loose a volley of trick arrows that wrapped about each man's wrists upon contact. Then, with a twinge of sadness, he tossed one of Sara's smoke bombs into a corner to disorient them. Then he left.

Once he was across the street atop that same building, he heard Roy's voice for the first time. "Oliver, I think I found more clues."

"What do you mean?"

"This wasn't a robbery. It wasn't even a real electronic store." Roy's voice was strained.

"How is that possible?"

"No idea," Roy answered. "Just get down here now."

* * *

Oliver sped through the city, the Glades coming up fast. He could see the fake electronic store ahead of him, and Roy sitting on the curb outside. Oliver parked the bike next to Roy and slid off, nervousness dancing in his veins. "So what's going on?"

Roy looked up, his red hood hiding his eyes. "Just go inside."

Oliver inched the door open, not ready to see the clues within. The lights were flickering in the empty building, and a crackling noise came from one corner. He looked there.

An old-fashioned television set sat on the floor in the corner, static bursting from the speakers along the sides. Every few seconds, a word flashed between collections of grainy interference. It was set on a loop, and it took Oliver a few minutes to catch the sequence of words in the correct order.

_Smoak out or Digg down?_

Behind him, Oliver sensed Roy entering the building. "So," Roy began, his voice low. "This isn't good, is it?"

Oliver shook his head. "No, it isn't."

* * *

Felicity waited for Roy or Oliver to answer her persistent questions. They paced the floor of the lair, both of their hoods still up.  _Stop brooding and answer me, damn it!_ Digg sat in silence, waiting patiently as always.  _How can he be so calm?_

After a few minutes more, she could no longer take the quiet. "Guys, speak up! What happened out there?"

Oliver sighed. "The Master knows about you two." Oliver gestured toward her and Diggle.

Felicity stared at Oliver's face, finding his eyes full of worry. "Are you sure?"

Roy laughed. "Uh, yeah. No doubt about it."

"He knows your names," Oliver said, rubbing the back of his neck. Felicity longed to massage those aching muscles and joints.  _Focus, Smoak!_ "How am I supposed to protect you when your identities have been compromised?"

Felicity dropped her gaze from Oliver's, knowing all too well where his thoughts were turning.  _Sara and I were put into danger, and it cost Sara her life. He doesn't want that to happen again..._ "O-Oliver," she began, her voice weak. "We knew the risks of joining this team, and we are okay with those risks. You shouldn-"

"What if I'm not okay with the risks?" Oliver interrupted, and everyone stood silently as the question lingered in the air, heavy.

Felicity glanced down at her hands to find them shaking, and she realized she was angry. Infuriated. Oliver's words sunk in and reminded her how much control he had over their team. He was the leader. He was the first to take on the mission. "You don't decide what's okay and what's not, Oliver!" she shouted, switching off her monitors and grabbing her coat and purse.

"Where are you going?" Diggle asked.

"Home," she blurted out as she rushed to the stairs, not willing to look back at either of them. "I can't stay here."

"It isn't safe out there, Felicity," Oliver said, his voice low and serious.

Felicity turned at the foot of the stairs and unwillingly met Oliver's gaze. "You know what, Oliver? I don't care." She stood there for a few more moments and then turned, knowing that staying there any longer would mean getting sucked back in.  _I have to be strong._

They watched as she left. Oliver's fists were clenched and his jaw was tight. Felicity had never spoken to him like that before, and he was afraid of what such an outburst meant for the team.

"Oliver," Diggle mumbled, breaking through Oliver's muddled thoughts. "She's right."

Oliver's gaze snapped to meet Diggle's. "How could you say that?"

Diggle stood and came to stand in front of Oliver, then grasped his shoulders. "You can't decide what's best for anyone. We've accepted the risks of being part of Team Arrow, Oliver. We've accepted that being connected to this operation could endanger our lives. And while Felicity might be weaker than us in regards to training, she's not powerless."

"But she is." Oliver thought back to the Count. He thought back to Slade. Felicity was powerless to fight them.

"But you can't underestimate her, and you can't control her."

"Digg's right," Roy said, his left eyebrow raised and his lips turned in a smug grin. "She's a firecracker, and you can't underestimate that. She can take care of herself."

"She couldn't when Slade took her," Oliver reminded them. "She can't protect herself against my enemies, and you two know that." He began making his way to the stairs. All he could think of was the explosive that could have killed her, and most likely made The Master aware of Felicity and Diggle's involvement. He couldn't afford to lose either of them, strategically or emotionally.

"Where are you going, Oliver?" Diggle asked, moving to follow.

Oliver turned, anger rushing up into his face and burning his cheeks. "To protect her."


	7. In Sync

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a moment of weakness, Oliver and Felicity share a moment... But will it be ruined by the Master?

Felicity dropped her keys onto the coffee table and toss her purse and coat onto the couch. She paced the living room for a while, her anger cycling through her slowly. Deep down she knew Oliver was right; she was weak and their enemies were dangerous. Her choice to join Team Arrow meant sacrificing her safety.  _But I don't care..._

She'd been thrown into many scary, dangerous situations and she never cared whether it meant her death. She had accepted that. To help The Arrow meant to become a possible target. But she'd been training ever since Sara had joined the team. It had started out as an attempt to draw Oliver's attention away from Sara, but it ended up being something she enjoyed. She felt empowered by the strength she gained with each exercise spar with Sara. Now she battled a punching bag, which rarely fought back. She felt much stronger and capable than she did when the Count had taken her.

"Why can't Oliver see that?"

She sighed and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She switched on her bedside lamp and closed the curtains after glancing out the window. She knew Oliver was out there somewhere, watching and guarding. That knowledge infuriated her more.

She went into the bathroom and began filling the tub for a bath. She poured bubble bath into the hot water and watch the bubbles burst from the surface, fluffy and a little sparkly. She dug her cellphone out of her pocket and set it down on the edge of the tub; it had to be next to her, just in case of emergency. Living alone had taught her to keep forms of communication near her at all times.

She lit some candles and sat them about the bathroom and turned off the lights. Candlelight always calmed her.  _I need to calm down..._

She slipped out of her clothes, pinned her hair up into a bun and stepped into the bath, instantly enjoying the heat of the water as she lowered herself into the tub. She sunk back into the bubbles until all that was above water was her head, and then she closed her eyes.

Images zoomed through her mind, reminding her of the stressful world outside. She couldn't keep them away. The explosion. The computer screen with blinking lights. Oliver's over-protection. Diggle's stoic patience. Roy's sarcasm. Everything replayed in her head.

And the guilt settled in...

She lifted her arms out of the water and dried them on her towel, then took her phone. She started a message, hesitantly. She deleted it and rewrote it multiple times until finally finding a draft worthy of sending.

**Oliver, I'm sorry. While I hate admitting it, you're right. It's dangerous out there.**

She set the phone back down and waited for a reply, keeping her hands out of the water. After a few minutes, her phone buzzed as it vibrated against the tub. She picked it up and read the text.

**I should really give you more credit. You're tough, and I shouldn't be so overbearing. I'm sorry.**

Felicity grinned as she replied.

**I'd like to believe you mean that, but I'm betting you're outside my house somewhere, watching for bad guys to swoop in and turn me into a damsel in distress...**

Moments later, a reply came through.

**You know me too well.**

She rolled her eyes. She wanted to get her anger back, but she knew he was just trying to keep her safe. She knew he was showing how much he cared for her, in the same way that Roy showed Sin how much he cared for her by letting her stay with him. They were protectors, and that's all that mattered.  _I guess I gotta deal with it._

Felicity soaked in the tub for a while longer, letting the heat ease her tense shoulders. Finally she got out and drained the tub, then wrapped herself in a towel. She dried off and then walked out into the bedroom. Quickly she changed into a set of pajamas and then grabbed her phone. She typed the text quickly, sending it without hesitation.

**Since you insist on guarding my home, why not just come in? Enjoy a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or something.**

She went downstairs and waited for the response as she set water on to boil. Instead of responding by text, she was greeted by a plainly dressed Oliver standing in her doorway.

"Oh, hi."

He grinned. "Hi."

They stood a few feet apart, a strange tension hanging between them. They stared, never breaking eye contact. Felicity thought about all the things she could do to get rid of the tension, but the awkwardness of each idea made her blush. But she couldn't look away, and she couldn't stop thinking about him. About his eyes, his lips, his arms, and other aspects of him. Her cheeks were hot, and her knees felt weak.

Suddenly the kettle began to whistle and the moment ended. Their gazes unlocked as she rushed to the kitchen to turn off the burner and pour herself some tea. Meekly, she asked: "Do you want hot chocolate, tea, or should I put a pot of coffee on?"

"Tea is fine." He was right behind her, and she could feel his eyes on her, assessing the situation and her mood.

She turned and tossed him a variety pack of teas. He caught it without trouble. "Take your pick."

He opened the box and thumbed through the packets and then tossed one her way. He set the box on the counter, then watched her prepare his cup. She could sense the grin playing on his lips. She looked up to find she was right. "What's that grin for?"

"No reason."

She continued to look up at him, once again finding her thoughts straying. While he infuriated her more often than not, she couldn't help but have deeper feelings for him. It was getting harder to mask them. "Whatever," she mumbled, and handed him his mug. "Let it steep a little longer, or else it won't be very strong... Of course, I'm sure you know how to make tea. Or maybe you don't... I mean, you had servants to do that, right?"

He chuckled. "I know how to make tea, Felicity. But thanks for the reminder."

She nodded, cheeks flushing once more as she turned and went back into the living room. Oliver followed close behind. She sat on the couch, and he did as well. Each movement she made, he mimicked. She took a sip of her tea despite how scalding hot it was, and then sighed. "Oliver, I get you're here to protect me, but this is silly."

"What's silly?" Stirred his tea and set the mug down on the coffee table.

"Well, I mean... It isn't like I hate you being here, or hate that you wanna protect me, but geez. You don't have to move like a magnet around me. It's weird."

He tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."

"Well, I did," she said. "And it's weird.

"You said that," Oliver said, leaning in to fill the small gap between them. "In order to protect someone, it is best to remain in sync with them."

Felicity's heart began to pound, and her inappropriate thoughts began to form once more. He was so close, and as he'd said, so in sync with her.  _He has to know what I want..._ she thought, slightly embarrassed.  _If not, he's an idiot._ She set her cup of tea on the couch next to his and met his gaze once more.

They stared into each others' eyes. Felicity quickly lost herself in the blue of his, and found herself inching closer to him. She could feel the warmth of his body even without contact.

"Felicity," he whispered. "I'm sorry if it's weird. But I think it's for the best."

Felicity gulped down her nervousness and answered: "Okay."

And then his face was directly in front of hers, so close the tips of their noses touched. She could feel his breath on her lips and she lost any coherent thoughts she might have had. Everything was gone. He was all she had, all she knew, all she wanted. He tilted his head slightly and she could feel the softness of his lips brushing against hers.

And then Oliver's phone began to ring, breaking them apart. She watched as Oliver closed his eyes, clearly annoyed. He answered the phone, putting it on speaker. "What's up, Digg?"

"Uhh..." Digg hesitated. "Well, I think The Master put some surveillance up around Felicity's house. He sent me the feed. You need to get out of there. Get to the lair."


	8. Interlude : Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude featuring the Master! Dun Dun DUNNNNNNN

" _Pardon the way that I stare. There's nothing else to compare."_

The computer screens were alight with the feed from Miss Smoak's house. Her and Mr. Queen were having an awkward conversation, and he wished desparately he had put in microphones to get more than just video. He had failed in thinking the surveillance through. At least he had the cameras.

" _The sight of you makes me weak. There are no words left to speak."_

He continued to glance up from his work, watching as they made their way from the kitchen to the living room, sitting upon her couch, a small distance separating them. He dipped the brush into the paint and then carefully -meticulously- covered the collar of his figurine. It was a cute little figure; almost an exact representation of her. He was quite proud of himself. It would make a fantastic addition to his growing collection. On shelves, figurines were lined up perfectly. Moira Queen. Thea Queen. Roy Harper. John Diggle. Now he'd add Felicity Smoak to the ranks. He tapped his foot to the music, a smile forming on his cracked lips.

" _But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real."_

Watching the feed, he saw them lean in, their lips almost touching. And then they broke apart, and Oliver Queen pulled out his phone. He knew without a doubt that the phone call was from John Diggle. And why not? He had sent the feed to the team's lair. Goodhearted John Diggle would always do the right thing. He was no fun at all. Soon they would take down the feeds. But it was no matter. It was simply a way to remind them that he, The Master, was always watching. He knew all.

" _You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you."_


	9. Reprimand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diggle give Oliver some words of advice and a slight scolding.

Diggle swiveled the desk chair around at the sound of Oliver and Felicity's footsteps on the stairs. "He sent me the feed," he said immediately, watching Oliver's annoyed face focus on the monitors. Each one featured a different angle of Felicity's home, all of them pointing inward and through curtains. "I have no idea how he did it."

Felicity chuckled, though her humor was forced and her movements shaky. "It's not that hard, Digg."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, how about you explain it to me?"

She went into a long spiel about networks and the art of hacking; everything made little to no sense to Diggle. After her long-winded, babble-filled explanation, she fell silent and watched the feed. Nothing was moving within her home, but Diggle knew by the look on her face that she was beyond worried. She was terrified.

"We need to take these down now," Oliver said.

Diggle turned and nodded. "We do," he agreed, then added: "Felicity, you stay here while we go dismantle the feeds."

"Hell no!" she exclaimed, panic filling her voice and glimmering in her eyes. "The Master buried an explosive right down the street from here, and he just got through sending you a feed from secret cameras outside -oh god, maybe even  _inside_ \- my home! If he can do all of that, I definitely don't want to stay here alone."

Oliver touched her shoulder comfortingly, and Diggle groaned quietly. "We need you to let us know where each camera is. Stay here," Oliver said, his voice gentle.

After a long span of silence, Felicity finally complied with the plan. "Fine..."

* * *

They circled the house, following Felicity's instructions to dismantle each camera as they found them. They did so in awkward silence aside from simple commands to one another. They were done within a half hour and sat on the front steps to take a breather while they waited for Felicity to make her way home.

Diggle could not remain silent. "I hope you understand what you're doing to her."

Oliver's head snapped up and he glared at Digg. "What do you mean?"

Diggle sighed. "I watched the feed. I don't know what all was said, but I saw what you were doing, and I have to admit, I thought you were smarter than that. And more kind."

"Digg, I have n-"

"Save it, Oliver!" Diggle had no idea how angry he was until he sensed Oliver's attitude. "You're toying with her emotions, and I'm not willing to sit back and watch her get hurt by you."

Oliver blinked, clearly confused. Guilt flickered for a moment in his eyes before disappearing.

Diggle refused to let Oliver comment. "She cares for you, Oliver," he continued. "Deeply. You were too distracted by Sara to notice, but I watched her pine over you for months, and watched her pour herself into her work in the hopes that you'd notice her. You never did." Diggle sighed, his anger beginning to subside. He could see the wheels starting to turn in Oliver's mind, could sense him recalling the months they'd fought the Count and Slade. "I once told you that it would always be Laurel. I was wrong."

"How so?"

"It wasn't just Laurel... It'll always be a Lance," He hissed the name, feeling his anger shift into annoyance. "If you plan on involving yourself with Felicity, you need to consider the consequences if you're still hung up on a Lance, whether it's a living one or a ghost."

He watched Oliver wince, and he knew he'd struck a cord. "Digg, it was never my intention to hurt Felicity. I suppose I thought I was doing the right thing..."

"The right thing for you, or for her?" Diggle asked. He watch Oliver's brow furrow as he considered the question.

Finally, Oliver cleared his throat and said: "I suppose I thought she could distract me."

"Distract you from your grief?"

Oliver nodded, then hung his head.

"Oliver, she's not indestructible. If you do that, she'll crumble. If you involve yourself with Felicity, it has to be for the right reasons. It has to be because you care for her. There has to be no hidden agenda or motive." Diggle paused, letting his words sink in. "She deserves that."

Before the conversation could go any further, Felicity drove up, parking in her tiny driveway. She got out of her car, slamming the door behind her. As she pressed the lock button on her remote, she said: "So, will one of you stay with me. I'm really creeped out."

Before Oliver could agree, Diggle jumped up. "Consider me your bodyguard."

* * *

Oliver returned to the foundry, his ego deflated. He hadn't expected the reprimand from John Diggle, but he knew he deserved it. Each word Diggle had spoken reminded him of the person he had been before the island.  _An arrogant, self-entitled asshole._  He wasn't that guy anymore; he was so much more than a play-boy.

But Sara's death had shaken him to the core, damaging him. Diggle's comment rang in his ears:  _It'll always be a Lance._

He slipped out of his clothes and collapsed onto the makeshift bed in nothing but his underwear. But he could not relax. Those words haunted him.  _It'll always be a Lance... Whether it's a living one or a ghost._

He closed his eyes and two women met him: Sara and Felicity. Slade had known who to choose for his game. Both women were on Team Arrow. Both women risked their lives repeatedly -daily- for him. Besides his sister, they were the women who meant the most to him. But one was gone, haunting every nook and cranny of the foundry. Diggle was right. He was still hung up on at least one Lance. Moving forward with Felicity wouldn't change those feelings. It would simply be a distraction.

"Felicity deserves more than that," he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. "She deserves so much more."


	10. Sleeping & Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an awkward reprimand from Diggle that was completely justified, Oliver and Felicity both have a hard time sleeping.

Felicity curled up in her bed, well aware of Diggle prowling the hallways of her home. His footsteps, though quiet, were still audible to her. He had been so quick to volunteer for guard duty; something seemed off about his abrupt acceptance. And the look on Oliver's face told her there was more to it. It had to have something to do with their previous interactions.

She reached for her iPod on the nightstand and stuck the earbuds in in the hopes of drowning out the new noise, then pressed play. Her playlist was full of all sorts of music, perfect for a wide variety of moods. But nothing seemed to work for her.

She scrolled through her library and finally found a song that seemed to scream to be played. She selected it and was greeted by a melancholy guitar. The lyrics reverberated in her head, throwing her back to a few hours before and their almost-kiss.

" _One night to be confused. One night to speed up truth. We had a promise made. Four hands and then away."_

The song continued, detailing a sad romance that could not stick. Regardless of passion, it was not enough to keep the two lovers together. She recalled the warmth of Oliver's breath on her lips and his blue eyes gazing at her with a gentle longing. She'd dreamed of that look many times before, always losing herself in those eyes. But now that the moment was real, she was unsure what to do. Her feelings were too strong to think clearly.

" _We had a promise made. We were in love."_

* * *

Oliver couldn't sleep. No matter how long he waited, sleep never greeted him. Unable to take the silence within the foundry, he hopped up from his bed and threw on a pair of sweats, a baggy t-shirt and old army-style coat. He slipped into a pair of tennis shoes and then left, avoiding the raucous of Verdant as best he could.

He walked through the Glades, avoiding the lot where they had found the second clue.

Oliver was beginning to see them less like clues and more like taunts. Each one hinted at how unsafe he and his team were. Their identities were compromised.  _And I was still willing to start something with Felicity..._

The thought triggered a surge of longing he was not prepared for. For so long he had kept his interest in Felicity under control; he rarely let it show. And then Sara clouded that longing, dimming it down to a faint spark ready to disappear.  _But Sara's gone now..._

Without her, everything was wide open and all his possibilities were spread out, ready for him to pick and choose. Even though he knew he couldn't have her, he couldn't keep his mind off of Felicity and the gentleness of her breath on his lips.

He walked for a long time; longer than he even knew. Soon, he found himself walking up the drive toward the mansion.  _Home._

It had been a long time since he had seen it as home, but something about his current mood beckoned him to a place for comfort. Deep down he knew a night spent in his real bedroom and real bed would do him good. He snuck in through an unlocked window and tiptoed up the stairs and down the hallway.

His bedroom had gone untouched. It seemed Moira knew it would be occupied again someday. He kicked off his shoes and took off his clothes, then pulled at the blankets and sheets. He slid beneath the covers and found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't for months.  _Home,_ he thought as he turned onto his side and faced the window.

A moment before sleep took him, Felicity's face came into view behind his eyelids. She was smiling, awkwardly pushing up her glasses as she turned around to the glow of a computer screen.

* * *

He awoke to sunshine peeking through the blinds on his window. For a moment he forgot he'd slept in the mansion, but then the comfortable bed and pillows reminded him of the rough night before. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his guilt coming back in full force.

Before coming home, he felt immeasurable guilt for Shado's death and for all the other events that occupied his five years on the island. Now that guilt had subsided, dull compared to what he felt about his moments with Felicity. Slowly he sat up and yawned.  _Time to move on,_ he thought to himself as he rubbed groggily at his eyes.  _You know you can't be who you want to be for her._

He stood up and went straight to his closet. It was full of jeans and button-down shirts. He picked a faded pair of jeans and a green striped shirt. He dressed quickly and then made his way downstairs, greeting staff as they went about their duties. All seemed happy to see him, if not a little surprised.

Entering the dining room, he found Moira seated at the table with half a grapefruit resting in a gold-trimmed china bowl. She looked up from spooning out a bite of fruit and smiled cautiously. "Oliver," she mumbled, her eyes full of so many things: guilt, happiness, fear and love. "I knew you'd come home eventually."

He nodded, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. "I needed home a little more than I thought I would."

Moira went back to poking at the contents of her bowl, lips pursed awkwardly as she read an article from the local newspaper. Oliver watched her, surprised to find he had missed her. "I'm sorry for leaving..."

"I understand why you did, Oliver," she answered before taking a tiny bite. "I never should have lied to you and Thea. I thought it was best for everyone."

Oliver crossed his arms. "Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't," he admitted. "Either way, I should have been less angry about it."

Silence fell, and he could sense that no more needed to be spoken. Oliver went into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Honey-Nut Cheerios and then returned to the dining room.

They ate quietly, the only sound the  _clink_ of their spoons against the bowls and the rustle of Moira's newspaper. A knock came at the door and one of the staff members brought in a package, leaving it on the table beside Moira.

"That's odd," she said, an eyebrow raised. "I wasn't expecting anything..."

Oliver's head snapped up at the words and worry instantly filled his stomach, creating an ache.  _No..._

Moira opened the box and shifted the packing peanuts around. Finally she found the contents of the package. She pulled out a small set of figurines. One of her, one of Thea and one of Oliver. But Oliver's was hooded and painted green. "What's this?" Moira asked, looking around for the staff member who had brought it in.

"Who sent it?" Oliver asked, his heart pounding.

Moira searched the box, inside and out, to find no return address. "No idea."

Oliver stood up, forgetting about his breakfast and went over to his mother. "Can I take that? I'll see if I can figure out who sent it to you."

Moira hesitated, then nodded. She put the figurines back in the box and handed it to Oliver. "Let me know if you find anything." He nodded, then turned toward the door. Before he could leave the room, Moira said: "Oliver."

He turned back. "Yes?"

She gave him that cautious smile once more. "Don't be a stranger."

* * *

Felicity shuffled about her bedroom, impatient to start the day. She had already brushed through her tangled hair, brushed her teeth and changed out of her pajamas into a sensible outfit. She went back into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, finding her face clear of blemishes.  _A day without make-up! Yes!_ She grabbed some lip gloss and spread it over her lips, moisturizing them. She smiled at her reflection. "Don't think about last night, Smoak! It's over. It didn't mean a thing. Be done with it."

But deep down, her heart ached for that interrupted moment. His eyes were constantly filling her head, reminding her of everything she wanted.  _Ugh! Go away, Oliver!_

Leaving the bathroom, she was greeted with the sound of her cell buzzing on the nightstand. She raced over and glanced down at the screen to find his name on the caller I.D.  _Seriously..._

She took a deep breath and answered. "What's up?"

"The Master sent my mother some figurines."

Felicity closed her eyes, remembering the first clue they'd been sent. "Like the one you got?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "Okay, well, I'll be at the foundry in fifteen."

She was about to hang up but Oliver stopped her. "I can't have anyone else involved in this Felicity. We need to find him."

"We'll find him, Oliver," she said, feeling a protectiveness over him and his family she hadn't felt before. "I promise."

Before her could interrupt again, she hung. She left her bedroom and went down the stairs. Digg was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Good morning," he said, his voice hoarse and groggy.

"Finish that cup quickly or make it to-go," Felicity said quickly, grabbing her purse and keys. "We gotta get to the foundry now."


	11. Mission Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without the ability to track down the Master, Team Arrow seek to put a stop to a millionaire involved in human trafficking.

Oliver watched as Felicity held the figurines close to her face, turning them over in her hands. Th concentration on her face made him smile, and deep down he felt something else.  _Admiration? Pride?_ He let the obvious word fall away, unprepared for the consequences of acknowledging it.

Felicity pushed her glasses up and then sigh. "Well, I'm flattered you want me to trace these back to someone, but I honestly believe that these are hand-crafted, Oliver. I told you this when we got the last one." She handed the figurines over to him and their fingers touched briefly. "Um, uh," she stuttered. "I don't know how to trace hand-crafted work."

He nodded, pushing back his disappointment. He knew it was a long shot before he even asked for her help. He looked over to Diggle to find his expression showing the same thing. No one was surprised by this development.

"Okay," Diggle began, crossing his arms as he leaned against the rail of the stairs. "So we believe these things are handmade, which makes them untraceable. So, what else do we know?"

"Well, we know these are extremely creepy," Felicity said as she eyed their growing collection.

"Let's be serious here," Oliver said.

From the sparring mats, Roy laughed as he attacked a punching bag. "Well, they  _are_  kinda creepy."

"I said  _extremely_."

Roy kicked the bag and then sent out a flurry of punches. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Guys," Diggle said, his tone signaling his irritation. "Please. So he sent on to you, Oliver, and then he sent these to your mother. Why?"

"Good question," Oliver mumbled, starting to pace. He dug his hands into his jean pockets and sighed. Has he stretched his fingers slightly, he felt a folded sheet of paper in the left pocket. He looked down as he fished it out. It was from a yellow legal pad, and it was folded so small it took some time to unfold.

"What's that?" Diggle asked, making his way over to Oliver's side.

"I don't know. I found it in my pocket." Oliver smoothed out the last fold and found a sloppy message written in dark black ink.

_Don't you miss home, Mr. Queen? I found it quite cozy. -The Master_

Oliver read it over and over until Roy snatched it from his fingers and glared at it. "This guy," he said, followed by an uncomfortable chuckle. "This guy needs to drop-dead."

Felicity came up beside Roy and read the message, slowly frowning as she read. "Guys, if he's able to send us a feed to surveillance cameras, what's stopping him from hacking into out system and using it?"

Oliver looked up quickly, a new worry spreading through his body. "Felicity, you're in charge of our security systems. Are you saying they aren't as secure as you've said."

Felicity shook her head. "No, their secure. Trust me. I run diagnostics on them every day and update them regularly. I'm just not sure what this guy is capable of."

They all stood in uncomfortable silence, mulling over Felicity's words. Oliver glanced back and forth between the note and the figurines, his hands clenched into fists.  _I gotta catch this guy._

* * *

Felicity scanned the note and ran it through a program to track handwritten items. She hoped the software would come up with some possibilities, but the process was taking longer than she expected. Behind her, she heard the repetitive  _Ch-Clang_  of a shirtless Oliver on the salmon ladder. She resisted the urge to look back and watch him. There was once a time she wouldn't hesitate. But the night before had caused her to reevaluate her attachment to him.

The screen read seventy percent when John brought in sacks of Big Belly Burger. Her and Roy jumped up from their seats at the sight, but Oliver continued up and down the ladder, ignoring them as they stuffed their faces.

"So," Roy whispered through a mouthful of french-fries. He swallow then continued. "Who do you think this guy is?"

"A genius," Felicity answered without a second thought.

"I mean  _really_."

"Like I said... a genius." She took a sip of her milkshake and then added: "That's the only way he could have hacked his way into sending us those feeds." She glanced over at the computer. Seventy-two percent. She sighed impatiently.

"Whoever he is, he's clearly dangerous."

"And creepy," Roy added, winking toward Felicity. She grinned.

From the ladder, Felicity heard the sound of Oliver's feet hitting thr ground. She turned to see him standing with his back towards them, head resting on the metal frame. The muscles of his back and shoulders were tense, seeming to fight against the ins and outs of his breathing. Then he turned, his face set in obvious rage.

"Felicity," he said, voicing her name as a question.

"Yes?"

"Got anything for the Arrow to take care of?"

She wiped her hands on a flimsy napkin and then moved to her computer. She glanced at the progress before minimizing the screen. Seventy-five percent. She scrolled through a few pages of police chatter before finding something she'd brought up weeks before. "Well, that bogus charity auction is tonight."

"Charity auction?" Roy and Oliver spoke at once, both raising their eyebrows at her words.

"Some guy, a newly-established millionaire, put out invites for some charity auction. When I did some digging on him, I found that many believed he was involved in the kidnappings of teenage girls all over the city. Many in the police department believe that he's using this auction as a cover for human trafficking." Felicity shivered at the thought. "I snagged us a couple of invites a few weeks back, before all this stuff with The Master started."

Oliver nodded. "Oh... right."

"If you're up for it," Felicity said before looking away. "We could go. See if we can stop it."

"Do you have a plan for this?" Oliver asked.

Felicity bit her lip nervously. "Well, kind of. Though I'm not sure you'll go for it."

* * *

They went over each aspect of the plan. Each member of Team Arrow had their roles to play. As the day wore on, All she could do was watch the progress on the identification tick slowly on, getting stuck at ninety-two percent at six in the evening. By then, Oliver had slipped into a perfectly tailored suit, and Digg threw on a bogus security guard outfit to match the bogusness of the event. To the untrained eye, the uniform looked real.

Felicity grudgingly gave up her seat at the computers to Roy, who seemed terrified of the technology at his disposal. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked, panic in his voice.

Felicity grinned. "I'm gonna pull up the feeds of the security cameras at the venue so you can watch our every move. You'll be communicating the same way I do for other missions." She pointed to the headset hanging off the edge of one monitor. "Continue to check the progress on the identification software." She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "If anything pops up, notify me first by pressing this button." She pointed to the correct one.

"Right..." Roy gulped back his nervousness, all the information clearly overwhelming him. "Anything else I should know? Like, what buttons I should never touch under any circumstances? This is a lair. There has to be one of those buttons."

Felicity let out a girlish giggle. "I have to keep  _some_  things to myself."

"But... Felicity!" Roy swiveled in the chair and stared wide-eyed at the screens.

As Felicity walked by Digg, he mumbled, "Do we really have a button like that?"

Felicity scrunched up her face and shook her head. "Not a chance," she whispered in reply.

She rushed to the bathroom to find her dress hanging neatly from a hook on the wall. Black lace, shimmering beading and a lengthy slit in the front. She tore off her clothes and slid into the luxurious fabric, feeling instantly out-of-place.  _It's just a dress, Smoak!_ She reached for the zipper and pulled it up awkwardly. The slit came all the way up to the middle of her left thigh and the bodice hugged her chest and pushed up, creating cleavage she didn't realize she could have.  _Okay... This isn't just a dress..._

She took off her glasses and put them safely in a spare case, then put in her contact lenses. After that, she grabbed the make-up bag she left at the foundry for such occasions and began applying simple eyeliner, mascara and some rose red lipstick. Looking in the mirror, she saw someone she almost didn't recognize. She put the finishing touches to her hair and then took a deep breath before opening the door.

* * *

The bathroom door creaked open and Felicity stepped out. Oliver's mouth dropped open for a split second before he was able to regain his composure. The slick, lacy black dress hugged her body, enhancing all the right curves. Her chest was exposed more than he'd ever seen before, and he quickly shifted his gaze upward to her face.

Her glasses were gone, and her eyes were lined with eyeliner and her lips were full and red. Every aspect of her appearance screamed classic pin-up. And he could tell she was uncomfortable. Her arms were tense and her hands trembling as they held tightly to her clutch; a clutch that hid her tablet perfectly.

"Wow," Roy said.

"Shut up," Felicity said, returning his shocked expression with a delightful middle-finger.

Oliver chuckled. "Okay, so are we ready?" He walked over to Felicity and held out her coat to help her into it.

She grinned. "What a gentleman," she said, nervousness apparent in her tone. He watched her take a deep breath before sliding her arms one by one into the sleeves. She shrugged it on and then raised an arm toward the stairs. "Onward!" Then she slapped a palm to her forehead. "That was stupid. What the f-"

"Relax, Felicity," Oliver whispered into her ear, interrupting her. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they hadn't helped matters.  _Or rather,_ I'm  _not helping matters._


	12. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity attend a charity auction put on by a millionaire rumored to be involved in human trafficking. Will they be able to rescue the women being secretly auctioned beneath the guise of superficial good works? Or will the Master somehow strike again?

They arrived an hour after the soiree had begun. Crowds of people flocked into the building, dressed in their very best. Felicity and Oliver were arm-in-arm as they walked a small red carpet, assaulted by flashing cameras and the demanding paparazzos wielding them. Felicity tried to keep her eyes away from the lights.  _I already need glasses... best not to go blind._

Beside her, Oliver was the portrait of Starling City royalty; a mirror of his old self. He kept a smile glued on as they made their way into the entry of the building, then quickly lost it. Security checked everyone's pockets and purses for weapons and then scanned a list of names to find each guest. Once through, they found themselves in an open ball room with many little alcoves scattered about, lined with heavy curtains.

A dance floor in the middle was full of guests, and all around were small cocktail tables. They made their way to one of them and began watching for the man they were looking for. "What's his name again?" Oliver asked, mouth near Felicity's ear so she could hear him over the music. It reminded her of the previous night.

"Richard McGuthrie," she said, adding: "Terrible name for a criminal."

She could see Oliver chuckling. Then he leaned in. "It doesn't matter what his name is. All that matters is that we stop him." A waitress interrupted their plotting to ask for a drink order. "Two glasses of your finest wine, red or white, doesn't matter. Whichever is best." Oliver said confidently.

The waitress nodded and then scurried off to fill the order. Felicity grinned. "Finally getting me some wine? I thought it was supposed to be a bottle..."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at her comment, then laughed. "I never got you that bottle?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

The waitress returned with two glasses of white wine. They sipped the wine, and Felicity savored each taste. She rarely drank liquid luxury.

"Felicity, remember not to drink too much," Oliver whispered into her ear.

She frowned, setting the glass on the table. "Well, why'd you order this then?"

"So we'll look normal. Now where might this underground auction be going on?"

Suddenly she remembered the comm links. "Oh! Wait! I have the information for that!" She jumped up and down excitedly before Oliver glared, reminding her of their covers. "Oops," she said before pressing a hand to her right ear and said: "Roy, look for the file on this auction. It should feature some floorplans."

A crackling noise met their ears, followed by Roy's exasperated voice. "Which computer is that on?"

Felicity sighed deeply, growing impatient much too quickly. "Roy, they are all one. But they should be on the right-hand monitor."

"Oh! Okay, got it!"

Felicity smiled. "All right, now just tell me where to go for the underground auction."

After a few moments, he answered: "To the left of the main entrance, across the ballroom, there's a door. Should be framed by curtains and guarded by security." As he spoke, Felicity followed his directions and found the right door. Standing outside was Diggle, now in a crisp black suit he'd changed into after sneaking in as normal security.

"Yeah, it's guarded. But not by McGuthrie's men..." Felicity chuckled.  _Is this wine already getting to me? I just had a little sip._

"After you go through that doorway, you'll go down a flight of stairs and you'll find yourself in a large room. Kinda like a museum."

Oliver made a growling noise. "Displaying the items up for auction..."

"Right... Disgusting," Roy said, then added: "Anything else you need?"

Felicity nodded. "Where are the girls being held?"

"It doesn't say, but I'd assume somewhere down there. The cameras show no one down there at the moment. No guards as far as I can tell."

"Got it, Roy," Felicity said. "Thanks so much."

"Yeah, well. Your job isn't so easy, Smoak."

Felicity grinned from ear-to-ear, a rush of pride filling her up. The acknowledgement of the toughness of her job and the skills it required made her feel useful and truly part of the team. Both Oliver and Diggle understood how important she was, but Roy hadn't grasped that fact. Finally he understood.

She took a small sip of her wine, then pointed toward Digg. "We gotta go over there, through that door."

Oliver nodded. "Follow me." He grasped her hand and led her through the crowd. The feel of his hand wrapped around hers sent a little shiver up her arm, creating goose-bumps.

She felt eyes on them, watching and longing. Every woman in the room wanted Oliver Queen, and every man wanted the woman Oliver Queen had. They were both desired and Felicity felt sick thinking about it. Each man she bumped into gazed down at her chest, ignoring her face. Oliver would make a protective nudge and they'd cease their ogling, but they had ogled nonetheless.

They were almost to the door when Felicity stepped on a man's toes, and he howled in pain. "I'm so sorry, sir!"

The man looked up, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers, then they drifted down like everyone elses. "No problem, miss. I already have two left feet, so they can't get any worse."

She giggled and then Oliver pulled her on. They came face to face with Diggle and he smirked at them as he pretended to find their names on a tablet in his hands. "Go on in, Madame Smoak." He winked at her then opened the door.

" _Madame_?" Oliver asked as they made their way down a dark stairway.

"Yeah. I own a large brothel outside of town as well as a high-end escort service. Perfect reason to attend such an auction."

"Well, you certainly look the part." With him in front and with his back to her, she could only imagine the expression on his face. She knew he probably regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

At the bottom of the stairs, a room opened up before them. All along the far wall were small pedestals. Each one was empty, but she knew they would soon be occupied by a poor girl stuck in a horrifying situation. She squeezed Oliver's hand. "We have to find the girls."

They found a hallway to the right and followed it to one single door. It was closed, with a red light hanging above it. Along the right side of the door, a keypad glowed. "Can you hack it?"

Felicity smiled. "Of course I can hack it," she said, feeling slightly dizzy. "Who are you talking to Oliver?"

She opened up a flap on her clutch to reveal the screen of her tablet, then she dug out a small cord. She attached one end to the tablet and the other end to the keypad. Then she went to work thumbing through software and punching in numbers on her bright screen. After a few minutes, the keypad buzzed and lit up neon green. She threw up a fist. "Yes!"

Oliver chuckled, then cautiously opened the door. Inside, about twenty girls sat on the floor in risque outfits. Each girl had a look of pure terror in their eyes. Oliver pressed a hand to his ear and spoke. "Digg, call Quentin Lance. Tell him we're getting the girls out. Find a safe way."

"Got it. I'll be down to get them."

Felicity motioned for the girls to follow them. "Please, don't worry. We're here to rescue you."

The girls looked at one another, slowly and silently communicating their fears and then, the excitement showed. They all began to stand, and then they rushed for the door, running past Oliver.

"Now, Digg! They are heading for the main room."

"On it, Oliver."

Suddenly, Felicity's vision began to cloud. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears and feel sweat beading on her forehead. "Oliver," she mumbled, leaning against the wall as everything began to spin.

"Felicity? What's wrong?" He was holding her within seconds, steadying her. He bent and slipped her stilettos off and tossed them into the empty room. "Hold on, I'll get you out of here. Talk to me."

She looked into his eyes, trying to focus. But all she could see was icy blue, like a cold ocean spreading across her vision. "Oliver, what's g-"

And then she fell, collapsing. The last thing she heard was Oliver's voice shouting her name.

* * *

"Felicity!"

Even with all those years fighting to survive on the island, learning to control his panic and nerves by gaining patience and calm, the sight of Felicity on the floor unconscious made his heart race. Her face was pale, drained of its usual cheeriness. The rational part of his brain told him to alert Diggle to the situation and ask Roy to guide him to a safe exit. But this moment left him adhering, briefly, to the irrational part. That part that told him to continue cradling Felicity in his arms. That part that told him to pray to whatever gods existed to make sure everything would turn out okay.

Then something clicked and he checked her neck for a pulse. A strong, steady heartbeat met his fingertips. She was fine. Simply knocked out. He breathed a sigh of relief, then pressed those same fingertips to his ear. "Diggle, Felicity's down."

"What happened?"

"I think she was drugged somehow," Oliver replied. "Take care of the girls. Roy, watch the security feeds and get me out of here with little interference. I'll have to carry her."

"Uh, okay. I'll try." Roy's voice sounded strained; full of nervousness and lack of confidence.

"You'll do it, Roy. You have to."

A slight pause followed before Roy replied. "That room has another door at the far end. Go through it. The hallway on the other side is empty."

Oliver lifted Felicity, careful to support her head against his shoulder and rested her tablet in the curve of her body. He kicked the door to open it wider and rushed in. He crossed the room, stepping over piles of clothes and shoes. Without hesitation, he kicked in the door. Beyond was another hallway, this one drab and dimly lit.

He eased out of the room, keeping his back to one wall as he made his way down the hall. "Where next, Roy?"

"Um," Roy said, followed by incoherent mutterings. "Third door on the left."

Oliver bounded towards the door, making up for the slowness of Roy's directions. The door was already open, revealing a large library. "How is this going to lead us out, Roy?"

"Oh... Um. Maybe it was the fourth door on the left..."

 _Fuck it,_  Oliver thought, then spoke up. "I'm going out the way we came in."

"Oliver, there are guards out there in the auction room."

"Well, be my second set of eyes, Roy. Tell me where they are and if others arrive," he said, trying to remain calm. "Digg, make sure the cops send the guests out. I want no one seeing us."

"Got it. And Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Keep her safe."

Oliver turned around, trekking back the way he'd come, reliving the moment of Felicity's collapse. The reminder urged him to hold her tighter, more protectively.  _Is that even possible?_

He stopped at the end of the hallway and waited for Roy's instructions.

"Oliver, they're waiting for you. I can shut off all the lights besides the red emergency ones. That might give you some form of disguise."

"You can do that?" Oliver asked, mildly impressed.

"This hacker stuff turns you into a god."

Oliver fought back a laugh and then said, "Do it."

He slowly, gently, set Felicity on the ground, hidden in the hallway. Just as he laid her head down, the lights went out and panicked yelps filled the air. "What the fuck? Who did that?"

The voice was deep and hoarse. Oliver peeked around the corner to see three men huddled in a small circle in the middle of the room, the emergency lights casting grotesque shadows across their faces.  _Darkness turns all men into boys,_ Oliver thought, recalling nights on the island when the clouds hung low, rain poured and the sky remained a dark void. He had embraced the darkness then, understanding it would take such acceptance to survive. Now, he embraced it once more.

Becoming one with the shadows, he slinked behind the men. He grabbed one by the neck, cutting off his air just long enough to send him into unconsciousness, but not before the other men rushed forward. Their frenzied panic made them dangerous as they fumbled with their guns. One dropped the handgun, muttering a curse under his breath before assuming a defensive stance, too afraid to search the dark for his weapon. Another fired a shot into the man in Oliver's arms, quickly making his actions pointless. He dropped the body and went after the one who misfired. He grasped the guard's wrist and jerked it around, hearing the joint snap and the gun drop. The man wailed in pain as Oliver thrust the palm of his hand up into his nose, breaking it with ease.

In one last movement, he kicked the gun into the shadows and the man to the ground. He groaned in pain, defenseless.

The final guard stood, fists clenched and in boxing position.  _Right..._

"Oliver, that's the last guy so long as you get out of there soon. Others are heading your way from the opposite end of the building. I give it three minutes before they make it to you."

The final guard jerked forward, sending a sloppy punch connecting with Oliver's chin. It did little damage. Oliver waited for another strike, which followed quickly after the first. He caught the man's arm before the blow could be dealt. He twisted it, twirling him around to give Oliver the opportunity to knock him out. He did so quickly.

He rushed over to the hallway to find Felicity still asleep. He picked her up and ran to the stairs, careful not to trip on the groaning man or his dead comrade. "Digg, is it clear upstairs?"

"The last guests have left. You have a quick getaway before the police swarm the underground. Hurry."

Before leaving the stairway, Oliver looked down at Felicity. Her face was peaceful, which sent a wave of calm through him. He had kept her safe, which meant more to him than he had realized. But she was still unconscious; she had still been drugged.  _That's better than the alternatives..._ Then he saw the light glowing from the tablet resting on her body. The screen was still exposed, and it was bright with a message.

_I hope Miss Smoak enjoys her nap... -The Master_


	13. Interlude : Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Interlude with our dear friend, The Master

He pushed the door open. The streetlamps from outside bathed his work station and collections with golden light. Deep inside, he felt a wave of pride wash over him. The statues were immaculate in their similarities to the real life people, and his work throughout the evening was just as perfect.

He thought back to the moment he'd slipped the drug into her pristine wine glass. It disappeared quickly, leaving no trace but the fast acting effects. He had slinked into the crowd after that, watching Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak quietly plot their moves for the mission. Then they had made their move to the door. In a sudden decision, had moved toward them.

He looked about the room and decided on making a cup of coffee as a reward. He was already giddy, why not give himself a greater boost. As the coffee brewed, he smiled as he recalled the moment Felicity Smoak had stomped on his toes. He could still see her apologetic face and hear her words in his head, and Oliver's insistent tug to move her on. He had looked into her eyes and she hadn't known to fear the man in front of her.

The thought brought on a new wave of giddiness.

He switched on the computer and scrolled through downloads from the underground auction's security feeds. He watched Felicity Smoak collapse, and watched Oliver panic before quickly composing himself to make for the exits. He watched the fight with the guards, then watch Oliver read the message. The fearful, pained look on Oliver's face brought him great joy.

"I've picked the correct pawn," he said, pausing on a shot of Felicity Smoak's unconscious body. "He won't stand a chance now."


	14. Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the auction rescue, Felicity wakes to find her head swimming with pain and Oliver there to be his usual self-loathing, overprotective self.

Felicity awoke to the sound of Oliver making his way up the salmon ladder. If her head weren't aching, she might have enjoyed the sound and the image connected to it. But the clanging of the bar against each set of rungs echoed in her head, sending surges of pain through her temples and to her eyes. She reached up and touched her eyelids with the back of her hand to find them feverish and sensitive. She resisted the reflex to sit up and rush over to her computers. Instead, she relaxed into Oliver's makeshift bed.

She groaned, unable to stomach the pain any longer. With that, the clanging ceased and suddenly Oliver was standing over her, his brow furrowed in concern and his jaw clenched.  _He looks so worried..._ she thought, taking in every aspect of his expression.  _But why? What happened?_

"You're awake," he whispered.

The quietness of his voice made her smile. "Thank you for speaking softly," she mumbled, the dryness of her throat barely allowing her to say the words.

"Of course," he replied. His hand rested on her shoulder in that comforting way he seemed to always utilize. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed. Her vision was beginning to clear, reminding her that she still had contact lenses in.  _My face feels naked without my glasses..._ she thought, blushing slightly. "Okay..."

"You sure? Do you need anything?" Oliver's fingers twitched with the question and suddenly his hand was stroking her hair.

She closed her eyes at the sensation.  _Even more sure now..._ she thought. "I'm sure," she said, opening her eyes to look into his. He kept her gaze as if searching for confirmation of her words. "I'd love some water..."

For a few moments they simply looked at one another. She ignored the pain, finding herself lost in his eyes and she slowly recalled the night before.  _Or was it a few nights ago? How long have I been asleep?_ She thought back to the night they had almost kissed; she recalled the touch of his nose against hers and his breath mixing with hers. Suddenly her pain ceased and all she could feel was his hand brushing through her tangled hair.  _Nothing will come of these thoughts. Pull it together, Smoak._

Oliver finally left her side and made his way to their mini-fridge. He extracted an ice-cold bottle of water and brought it over to her. "Can you sit up?" he asked. "I don't have any straws."

She winced as she slowly propped herself up onto her elbows. Her head swam with the slight change in position. "Please... water," she begged, frowning at the pathetic sound of her plea. "My mouth is so dry..."

Oliver opened the bottle, then brought it to her lips and tilted it. The cold liquid rushed into her mouth, soothing and healing the dryness. She closed her eyes and smiled as the water went down her throat.

"Better?" Oliver asked.

She nodded. "Much better."

After a few more gulps, Oliver set the bottle aside and let her rest her head on his pillow once more. He went back to running his fingers through her hair. With each stroke, she felt a masculine protectiveness exuding from Oliver, and she knew she'd complain if she weren't so completely drained.

After what seemed like forever, Oliver broke the silence. "What do you remember, Felicity?"

She frowned, not wanting to relive the mission. "I remember getting the girls out, and then everything is black. What happened after?"

"I got you out," Oliver said simply.

His words came out much to quickly. "What aren't you telling me, Oliver?" she asked. "You aren't good at lying."

His hand left her hair and fell into his lap. He stared off, distancing himself from the present. She watched him.  _How bad could it be?_

"Felicity," he began, his voice quiet with something she couldn't describe. "I'd rather not worry you more than I have to."

"Oliver, I can handle whatever you're keeping from me. I'm a big girl. A bitch with wifi. I'm-" She stopped herself before she could finish the words, but that didn't prevent her from hearing them loud and clear in her head.  _I'm your girl..._ "I'm tougher than you're giving me credit for. I know you wanna be all macho-protector, but I can handle it."

He looked at her, a grin of amusement spreading on his lips. "I want to keep you safe."

She winced back the pain in her head and then spoke. "Tell me!"

"Please, Felicity..."

"Tell me!"

"The Master drugged your wine." He stood up and began to pace. "He was at the auction and somehow drugged your wine. He sent a message to your tablet to tell me."

Her puffy eyes followed him as he walked back and forth. His brow was furrowed and she could tell she had angered him. His fists were clenched and every muscle in his back were tense. If it weren't for the pain, she would have stopped him in his tracks. She would have gripped his fists in an attempt to calm him. But she was weak and aching, stuck on his bed and still shrouded in the dress from their mission. "Oliver, did everything work out with the mission?"

He nodded.

"Are the girls safe?"

Once again, he nodded.

"Did we both get out alive?"

He glanced at her. "Yes."

"Then what's your problem?"

He sighed. "The Master keeps threatening you. I can't let anything happen to you."

"Oliver," she said, then paused. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She could no longer remain on the bed, feeling helpless and pathetic. She stood and staggered, feeling the pain in her head swim and spread, then slowly fall back to normal. She stepped in front of him, interrupting his pacing. He avoided her gaze. "I knew how dangerous it would be when I joined Team Arrow."

He tried to speak but she reached up and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing his protest.

"I accepted the risks. Perhaps it's time for you to do the same."

Before Oliver could say anything else, Roy and Digg rushed down the stairs carrying bags of Big Belly Burger and a plastic sack of take-out.

"So glad you're awake," Digg said, smiling. "I hope you're hungry."

"I don't think I can stomach a burger, guys."

"We knew that'd be the case," Roy said, piling the bags onto the table. "That's why we got you soup from that Chinese place you like so much. The one with the dragon."

She clapped her hands excitedly. "The egg drop soup?" They nodded, digging the soup out of the bag. "Thank you!"


	15. Silence Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been five weeks since the Master drugged Felicity at the auction, and he's remain completely silent. Until now.

"So," Roy began after a long gap in conversation filled only by the buzzing of Felicity's computers. "Where the hell is The Master?"

Everyone swiveled their chairs to face him. Oliver had been sharpening arrowheads. Digg had been meticulously cleaning his .45, a 1911, according to his usual military standards. Felicity was still typing up some reports for QC, every few seconds glancing sideways to see if anyone was willing to answer.

But Roy couldn't take the quiet anymore. "Seriously, where is he? It's been five weeks and he hasn't sent out anything."

Digg sighed and turned back to his gun. Felicity continued typing away, her silence the same as it had been for five weeks, ever since the underground auction. Oliver was the only one maintaining eye contact.  _And why wouldn't he?_ Roy thought.  _He doesn't like people questioning things._

After a few minutes, Oliver spoke. "Roy, can we just be glad that he's ceased his game?"

Roy shook his head. "Uh, no!" He stood from his spot on the stairs and began to pace. "You know how it is. 'Calm before the storm' and everything. Isn't it possible that he's just making us  _think_ he's had enough? I mean, I highly doubt this asshole is satisfied with simply drugging Felicity!"

He heard her chair swivel and when he turned to face her, he saw the anger in her eyes. She pushed at her glasses and then took a deep breath. "Roy," she began, keeping her voice level and calm. "I'd appreciate it if you'd drop it. I've been looking into all of the clues, but there's honestly nothing we can do. Unless he strikes again, I can't do anything more."

He groaned. "I think that's bullshit, Felicity! You're able to crack any code and hack into any system. How can you  _not_ find the source of some crappy little figurines."

"We've told you this, Roy! They're handmade! Drop it!" Oliver shouted. He was about to continue, but the alarm system triggered, signaling a crime in progress.

"Well, this is new..." Felicity mumbled as she watched security feeds. "A whole cell block at the detention center has been emptied. No inmates anywhere in the facility. Seems all of them are gone." She scanned through police radio and tracked some leads. "Seems that there's a chance the escapees are making their way to an old scrap yard." She turned to Oliver and grinned. "Hoping to steal some old cars?"

Oliver rushed over to his suit and changed quickly, then grabbed his bow and quiver. "I got this."

"Can I come?" Roy asked, reaching for his hoodie.

"No," Oliver answered as he made his way up the stairs two at a time. "Stay here."

The security door slammed shut, sealing away another chance for Roy to learn. He kicked at air, his anger welling up inside him and longing to leak out. But he took a deep breath and clenched his fists. "Why can't he give me a chance. He trusted me on my own before, why not let me help him now?"

Digg chuckled. "Roy, I don't think Oliver needs a bodyguard for  _every_  mission." He winked.

That eased Roy's mood and made him laugh. They watched the screens as Felicity followed Oliver's every move. He arrived at the scrap yard within ten minutes and then the little dot on the screen stopped. For five minutes they watched as the dot remained in one spot, frozen. Finally, Felicity dialed his number and switched it to speaker.

"Felicity."

"Oliver, what's wrong?"

"They're dead."

For a moment, none of them could speak. Then Digg spoke. "What do you mean, Oliver?"

"They're dead."

"How can twenty-five men all be dead?" Felicity asked.

"They're dead."

Oliver kept reciting the words, his voice monotone with shock. Felicity ended the call, then stood. "We gotta get down there."

* * *

Felicity's hands twitched with fear as they drove toward the scrap yard. A dense fog was crawling up from the shore half a mile away, turning the old industrial district into something out of a horror movie. She hated horror movies.  _Or I hate watching them alone, at least..._ Thoughts of evil clowns and demonic entities swirled around in her mind like the fog around the car's tires. She willed herself to think of something happy.  _Kittens._ she thought, but suddenly all she saw was Oliver on the salmon ladder.  _Well, that works too, I suppose._ She began to blush.

They pulled up to the yard's entrance to find Oliver pacing in front of his bike. Felicity jumped out of the car before Digg had even put it in park and rushed over to Oliver. Her presence didn't make him cease his pacing.

"Oliver, what's going on?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder in the hopes of stopping him. For a moment he continued to move, but then he planted his feet into the gravel and turned to face her.

"They're dead."

She nodded. "You said that... on the phone. But what do you mean?"

He pointed into the scrap yard, his hand shaking. In the distance, sirens rang out. Felicity rushed into the scrap yard, her nervousness gone, replaced by concern for Oliver. He was typically stable. A rock in the face of danger and destruction.  _What could possibly have made him..._

Her thoughts trailed off upon seeing it.

A pile.

A pile of bodies coated in green paint, each head covered with a mock hood. When she looked closer, she found that none of the bodies were intact. Each one was dismembered. Arms and legs were scattered, disconnected from their sockets and the men that needed them. No neck contained a head. Blood trickled from each open wound, mixing with the paint to form a grotesque black liquid. Felicity resisted the urge to throw up.

She stared at the pile for a while, then noticed something else.

A sign.

A sign standing in front of the pile, black with green lettering.

_Miss me? Are you ready, Green Arrow?_

The sirens drew closer and Digg came rushing over, ignoring the carnage. "Felicity, we gotta go! We can't be implicated in this!"

Felicity glanced back at the pile of body parts and found a face. The eyes stared at her, shocked and afraid. The mouth was gaping open, wide as if in mid-scream. For a second, she could almost hear it.


	16. Suit Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diggle has an idea, but it might not be the best idea in the world.

They sat in silence watching the news reports and listening in on police chatter. Felicity ignored the screens and focused her attention on Oliver. His icy eyes seemed colder than usual, as if filled with a brewing storm. The expression on his face was one of imaginary calm; no one was fooled by that customary stoicism.

She turned away from him to find the news feed showing an aerial shot of the crime scene. It was far enough away that specifics could not be seen as a group covered the pile with a large tarp. But one thing was impossible to miss: the pools of blood and paint. Felicity shivered at the images that flashed in her mind. She looked back at Oliver to find him hiding his face in his hands.

She longed to reach over and massage his shoulders. She longed to take away the worry and fear he so clearly felt. But she was afraid herself. Afraid of The Master. Afraid of her feelings for Oliver. Afraid of their entire mission.

Her inner musings were quickly interrupted by Roy. "Remember when I said that these last five weeks were just the calm before the storm?" Everyone but Oliver looked at Roy and frowned at his cocky grin. "Well, I'm just sayin'... I told you so."

"Save it, Roy," Diggle growled, clearly fuming. "This isn't the time for smug-ass comments."

"Well, I was right."

Felicity sighed, pushing her glasses back up to their comfortable spot on her nose. "That doesn't mean you have to rub it in." She glanced over at Oliver, finding little changed. His face was still hidden and she could see the intensity of his posture. She knew for certain that he would find no relaxation. She knew their five weeks of quiet was gone. But she knew something else. "I doubt The Master will make another move tonight," she said, adding: "And even if he did, we probably won't know until tomorrow. We're kinda lacking in leads right now." Deep down, she wished once more that the identification software had come up with some leads five weeks before, but the words  _No Results Found_ continued to haunt her dreams.

Felicity watched as Oliver's shoulders slumped even more.  _I've never seen him so defeated._

After a few moments, alarms began to blare. Felicity looked at her screens to find messages popping up on each one, all saying the same thing:  _The Master beckons. Beacon Street Lumberyard._

Before anyone could stop him, Oliver was rushing up the stairs and out of the lair.

"Well shit," Roy mumbled, then glanced down at Felicity. "You were saying something about the guy  _not_  making another move tonight?"

"Shut up."

Felicity checked all of the security systems protecting the lair and even reset the majority of the codes and passwords. Deep down, she knew The Master was watching them... even in the lair. _He must take some sick pleasure from it._

Diggle sat close to Felicity, watching each change she made. After a while, he broke the silence. "I think Oliver needs someone out there with him."

Felicity didn't look away from the computer as she spoke. "Send Roy, then."

"I don't mean Roy."

"Thanks a lot, Digg," Roy groaned before running up the stairs. "I know when I'm not needed. The door slammed with a resounding thud.

She stopped typing and turned to find Diggle's face full of seriousness. This wasn't a joke. "What do you mean? Me?"

He nodded. "Why not? You've been training. You've been able to do more than you ever expected. Why not use what you've learned to help Oliver?"

"Digg, I already help him," she said, pointing towards the computers. "He doesn't need a clutz out there with him."

Diggle chuckled. "You and I both know you're not the clutz you pretend to be."

She couldn't answer. The idea of gallivanting off with Oliver and swinging from rooftops sent shivers of thrill up and down her spine. But something seemed wrong. She knew it wouldn't be right. "I don't think I'm strong enough."

"Go out there and try. Prove to him that you're not powerless. Prove to  _yourself_ that you're not powerless."

She couldn't argue with him anymore. They had discussed the idea many times outside of Oliver's earshot. But she never imagined the day would come when she would take any of it seriously. She looked around, finding the bo staff she'd been training with since Sara's death. She sighed. "I don't have a costume. All I have are yoga pants."

Diggle grinned like a child on Christmas morning before saying: "I have the solution for that problem." Felicity raised an eyebrow as he left the chair and sauntered over to his locker and took out a box wrapped in dark green wrapping paper. "This was a bitch to hide from Oliver, so I hope you appreciate it." He placed the present in her lap with a wink.

She ripped apart the wrapping and opened the box. Beneath a thin layer of tissue paper, a black leather suit rested, lined with purple seams. "Digg, you can't be serious! You got me a hero suit? I mean, a crime-fighting suit? Or... oh hell. What do you even call these things?" She held up the bodice and admired the intricate lines and smell of expensive leather. "Digg, I don't think I can accept this."

Diggle chuckled. "Oh I think you can, Felicity. Because it is, unknowingly, a gift from Oliver." He pressed a finger to his lips and winked once more. "But he doesn't have to know."

* * *

In the bathroom, Felicity stared at herself in the mirror.  _This looks ridiculous..._ she thought to herself as she eyed the leather. It fit snuggly, similar to Oliver's and Sara's. The bodice was modest compared to Sara's, revealing only a slight hint of cleavage. But it was tight like a corset and crushed her breasts and sent them upwards.  _One wrong move and I could spill out._

The black leggings were perfect. Color-blocked with dark purple, they hugged her curves and made movement easy. The knee-high flat boots clutched at her calves and reminded her of how easy it is to shape them when wearing heels at the office.

But everything felt wrong.  _Why should I do this?_

"Felicity, is everything all right?" Diggle asked, his voice muted by the door.

She took a deep breath. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Then come out. You need to get going."

She opened the door and watched Diggle's eyes sparkle with excitement. "I think you fit the part now."

"But, Digg-"

"No buts! Just get going," he said, holding up a comm link. "He's almost there. So get moving."

On her way out, Felicity made sure to send Diggle a gesture befitting her mood.

* * *

The leather kept her warm.  _That's the only thing this suit is good for,_  she thought decidedly. She couldn't imagine herself jumping off buildings or doing flips. Even if the fit was comfortable, she was afraid of her chest popping out or her pants potentially ripping.  _Just keep moving..._

In the distance she could see Oliver crouched in the shadows near the entrance to the lumberyard. She hid herself behind a collection of crates and watched him. He was so still, almost like a statue. She admired his posture and ability to stake out a location. Even though the suit kept the chill out, she was still shivering.  _Pull it together, Smoak,_ she thought, biting her lip.  _Just get this over with and you'll never have to do it again._

She moved away from her hiding spot and tip-toed over to Oliver. She was unsure how to get his attention without drawing attention to them if anyone else was around. She came up behind him and he didn't react. She tapped his shoulder, and instantly he turned around, pinning her against the wall with his bow to her neck.

"O-Oliver," she choked out.

The pressure relaxed with her words and Oliver stepped back, eyeing her costume with a gaze that was unreadable.

"Felicity?" he asked, his voice a cold hiss.

_This was a bad idea..._


	17. Set Aflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity argue, and then experience another taunt from the Master

Oliver kept his eyes on the lumberyard, scanning the location for movements or shadows. Anything signaling the Master was scurrying about. Something about the Master's tactics made Oliver think of a rodent taunting a cat, scurrying away quickly before the feline noticed. In this case, he was frustrated to have reflexes and hunting skills that some might compare to a cat.  _I'll get him this time._

The yard was quiet and dark, forcing Oliver to wonder if he had been tricked again.  _This is bullshit. I can't keep failing..._ he thought, dropping his eyes to the ground.  _I've failed too many people, and I can't keep doing it._

Lost in his shame, he didn't register the footsteps behind him until he felt a finger tap his shoulder. He reacted swiftly, bringing his bow to the neck of the stranger. He found a blonde woman with a mask covering the flesh around her eyes and the tops of her cheeks. Her lips were painted with pink gloss and one word escaped past them in a breathy croak. A name. "O-Oliver." His name.

He relaxed the pressure of his bow against her throat when the voice triggered recognition. He scrutinized her for a moment before speaking. "Felicity?" he hissed, eyeing her leather costume. Quickly he drew up similarities between this suit and the one Sara used to sport. Both were black, but Felicity's was mixed with dark purple. But he could not look at her with admiration. "What the fuck, Felicity... You gotta leave."

Felicity stood there, silent but steady and solid. He could tell she was nervous, but she kept her posture confident. "I'm here to help you, Oliver," she said, bringing a hand to her neck. She massaged the skin and muscles.

He closed his eyes and groaned. "No," he murmured, clenching his fists.

"No?"

"You're not gonna help me, Felicity. It is too dangerous."

Her cynical laugh broke through the quietness of their surroundings, echoing off the concrete to fade into the distance. "That never stopped you from allowing Sara to risk her life. Were all those missions less dangerous than this one? You're a real jerk, Oliver. I mean, I've trained. Well, you don't really know that. But Digg trained me when you weren't around. You know, when you were out acting like the billionaire play-boy CEO asshole. And here I am," she shouted, digging out a folded bo staff from a pocket of her pants. "With this thing, in a suit and mask ready to kick ass with you, and all you can think is how dangerous it is. And yet you've put plenty of women in danger before! I'm willing to do this, but you can't seem to get your head out of your ass long enough to let people show their potential."

He stared at her, letting her words sink in. Letting her berate him. Letting her reprimand him.

"I wanna try this at least once, Oliver! I wanna be your girl in more than just a tech capacity," she said, then her eyes widened at the sound of her words. "You know what I mean. I wanna be your  _girl_... your  _partner_  in crime-fighting awesomeness... Okay. You get it."

His anger began to subside slightly, allowing his lips to spread into a tiny smile. He couldn't deny the truth of her words. However, everything he had felt guilty about over the past few months -maybe even the past few years- came back to him being too lenient with his team. He'd allowed Sara to fight alongside him, and she was dead. His eyes grew sad and he sighed deeply, letting his smile fade. "Felicity," he began, trying to keep his voice calm. "I understand how much you want to help me, but I have to admit... Allowing Sara to follow me into  _crime-fighting_ was what got her killed in the first place. I don't-" His voice choked on the words, and he shifted from one foot to another before continuing. "I don't think I can handle losing another person I care about."

They stood in silence, the words hanging in the small gap between them. He watched Felicity's face as she let the words sink in. She dropped the bo staff and tore off her mask to reveal the face he'd grown to admire. She sighed. "Oliver, I understand how you feel. But I've told you that I signed up for this life. I'm prepared for the risk, the same as you and Digg. Just let me do this one thing and then I'll go back to being your tech-savvy Wonder Woman." She stuck out her hand and winked. "Deal?"

After a minute of hesitation, Oliver nodded and grasped Felicity's hand tightly and shook It. "Deal."

* * *

They walked side-by-side toward the lumberyard. Oliver kept an arrow at the ready and Felicity held her bo staff firmly in her hands. Deeper within the maze-like yard, a eerie green light was shining; it was the color of Oliver's suit. He glanced out of the corner of his eye toward Felicity, finding her presence oddly comforting while also inducing a slight panic. He took a deep breath, hoping to clear away his nerves.

They skirted past towering piles of crisp lumber and equipment toward the light. Turning a corner, they came to a great opening to the maze. In the center, a stage was constructed and atop it were wooden statues, each with a light fixed upon it. Oliver stepped forward, holding out a hand to keep Felicity back. She obeyed the signal.

At the foot of the stage, he came face-to-face with statues of everyone he cared the most for.

Moira was standing proud like the matriarch she was.

Thea smiled smugly with a hand on her hip.

Diggle was straight and stoic, like the ex-marine he was.

Sara was fierce, crouched low and ready to pounce.

Roy grinned like the cocky boy he'd proven himself to be.

And then there was Felicity.

Felicity's statue held the most detail, right down to identical glasses and the same tablet she carried with her everywhere; her statue was the only one painted. Every detail was perfect, right down to the brightly colored pencil skirt, tight ponytail and the pink lips. The tablet was facing Oliver, and he saw words scrolling by quickly. He caught the beginning of the loop and read along.

_Those you love will always burn._

And with a faint clicking, each statue caught fire one by one, starting with Sara's. The crackling of the wood sent shivers down Oliver's spine as he watched Sara die once more. Then he noticed the next one. Moira. She was quickly, almost instantly, followed by Thea. Roy was set aflame, then Diggle. The last one was Felicity, with a great delay between. The tablet flashed with one last message:

_You'll lose them all._

And then the green lights went out, leaving Oliver in the roaring glow of the flames. Shadows danced on the wood piles around them like ghosts. Oliver didn't realize he was crying until Felicity came to his side and wiped a drop away from his cheek with her thumb. "Oliver, we better go."

He nodded, feeling defeated by the Master once again.


	18. Interlude : Director

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude from the elusive Master

He watched from a rooftop some distance away, crouched low. He could clearly see Oliver making his way through the lumberyard, closely followed by a female figure. It took him only a moment to recognize her as Felicity Smoak.  _Taking up a vigilante persona, are we?_

They came upon the stage and paused. Oliver held up a hand to stop Felicity from following him forward.  _Always the protector, aren't we Mr. Queen?_

He gave Oliver a few moments to go through the statues and the message on the tablet before sending out the final message. He watch Oliver's body go even more tight and tense as the message went through.  _How can you protect against this?_ he thought as he pressed one last button on his own tablet. The emerald lights shut off and the statues began to catch fire, one by one.

For a moment, he mourned all of his hard work. Each statue had taken him weeks to perfect, and using the inmates as his stagehands had been frustrating and brought about plenty of problems. He realized he wasn't the best director out there. But the flames symbolized his move forward to a new and exciting territory.

"Now the real fun begins."


	19. Queen Mansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity head to Queen Mansion in an attempt to keep her safe.

"Digg, stay at the foundry," Oliver said into the phone, his voice tight with worry. Felicity followed him to their vehicles with her arms crossed, a slight pout on her lips. "Have Roy join you and keep an eye on Thea. I'm sure the Master broadcasted his latest show on our systems."

"You're right about that," Digg replied. "What about Felicity?"

She brought out her cynical laugh once more. "Oh, hey Digg! Yeah, I'm apparently going to be living at the Queen mansion for the unforeseeable future."

Diggle's thick laughter reverberated through the phone, sending a ripple of anger through Felicity. She clenched her fists. "It's for the best Felicity. We all have to look out for one another."

"Ugh, whatever."

"We'll see you tomorrow, Digg," Oliver said with a sigh. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Will do," Digg said before hanging up.

Felicity watched as Oliver turned to her with a look of concern. "Felicity," he began, stepping a little closer to her. "Please don't be angry."

"Whatever, Oliver. At least let me go home and get some clothes and other necessities."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll follow you on my bike. Closely."

* * *

Oliver hadn't been back to Felicity's home since the night they'd almost kissed. He recalled the sensations of that night; the warm manner she had prepared his tea and the easy way they interacted. He regretted destroying that. But something inside him knew they had shared something that night; they had shared a connection he hadn't known he wanted.

Pulling up to her home, he parked his bike and ran up the steps beside her. She reached up onto a crease along one of the windows and retrieved her spare key. He raised an eyebrow. "I left my purse at the lair," she said simply as she unlocked the door.

He pushed past her and inspected each room moments before she entered. Once everything seemed untouched, he gave her privacy to gather her clothes and personal items. He paced the living room, noticing little details that gave him insight into her life. The entertainment center was stacked high on both sides of the television with box-sets of shows he'd never heard of. Her iPod was standing in a docking station, ready to be played. He turned it on and scrolled through the library of artists, picking out a random ones he'd never listened to before.

Ariana Grande.

The Civil Wars.

Echosmith.

Jose Gonzalez.

Macklemore & Ryan Lewis.

The list went on and on, making him feel extremely out of touch. Five years on an island had kept him away from media in all its forms, and music was one form he had missed the most while isolated. Even with the many artists he didn't recognize, he found quite a few he remembered from his life before.

Brand New.

Dashboard Confessional.

Fall Out Boy.

Yellowcard.

30 Seconds to Mars.

He might have been a party boy, but he loved punk, and he loved broody rock music even more. He selected Brand New and scrolled through the albums and found his favorite track. He clicked it and listened as the mellow, melancholy guitar filled the room. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the music and lyrics.

* * *

From her room, Felicity heard music echoing from the living room. She crept out into the hallway and down to the living room. She found Oliver standing near her entertainment center, the iPod lit up and music escaping the speakers. He was singing along to the song; a song she rarely listened to unless she was in a strange mood.

As she watched, she began to connect the lyrics to Oliver and the words made a twinge of sadness fill her. "Do I divide and fall apart? 'Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark. And the ship went down in sight of land. And at the gates, does Thomas ask to see my hands?

She stepped forward and turned the music off, and Oliver's eyes snapped open. "Sorry. I just love that song," he whispered, his voice full of some sort of emotion, but he was hiding it from her. The wall he put up was too thick and too tall for her to find a way through.

She sighed. "It's okay. I love it too," she replied, lightly touching his arm in an attempt to express her understanding. He nodded. "Well, I'm almost done packing. If you want, I can pack this too," she said, pointing to the iPod.

"Whatever you want, Felicity," Oliver answered with a grin.

She unplugged the docking station and rolled up the cord without a word and carried it out of the room to her bags. She took a look around her room, breathing in the familiar scents.  _You're going to a mansion, Felicity,_ she thought to herself.  _You're going to stay with Oliver Queen._ The thought made her pause and she felt her heart racing.  _Calm yourself, Smoak. Nothing's gonna happen. You're gonna get a guest room, most likely down the hall from him and then you'll sleep in a big fluffy bed._

She nodded and took a deep breath before shouldering her duffle bag and toiletry bag. "Ready to go, Oliver!"

* * *

They arrived at the mansion after midnight to find all of the lights out. Thea was working at Verdant and Moira had always gone to bed early. Oliver unlocked the door and led Felicity up the stairs and down an extravagant hallway lined with original artwork and warm oak furnishings. The carpet beneath her feet was soft.

He opened a door and flipped on the light switch. "Welcome to Oliver Queen's bedroom," he announced quietly, spreading his arms wide.

Felicity dropped her bags and looked around, finding the room plain and lacking in signs of personality.  _I guess that's what happens when you live on an island for five years,_ she thought.

The furniture was just as plush and refined as the rest of the house, but with darker colors schemes. Along one wall, a couch rested, covered with throw pillows and one small blanket. A flat screen TV hung upon the wall, but she guessed it had never been turned on except to watch news reports.

"So," she mumbled, looking down awkwardly. "Where's my room?"

Oliver smiled, but she could sense how uncomfortable the question made him. "Well, I figured you could sleep in here. I'll take the couch and you can have the bed. It's a pretty nice bed, actually."

She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think I'd be able to say that I spent the night in Oliver Queen's personal quarters," she said, then internally gave herself a face-palm. "Not that we're gonna be doing anything other than sleeping and perhaps chatting. Of course, if you'd like me to stay quiet, I can always just read." She pulled out her current literary entertainment: her worn out copy of _Pride & Prejudice._ "Or we can chat. Whatever you want. Or we can sleep. I'll stop now."

Oliver chuckled and stepped forward and grasped her hand. "Felicity, relax."

"Easy for you to say," she murmured as he led her into the ensuite.

Once inside, he turned on the lights and she was assaulted with a epitome of luxury. The bathroom was roughly the size of her living room and kitchen combine, though she was sure she was exaggerating. A deep, jacuzzi tub took up a corner, and a shower stood beside it encased by glass walls with two doors, one leading in and one leading out to the bath with steps. Two sinks filled the counter space, as well as a small vanity complete with stool and make-up artist quality lights. The tiles were crisp and clean, laced with swirls of green and gold. She was speechless.

"I figured you'd wanna get out of that outfit wash up," Oliver said, stepping out to grab her bags. He returned with them and piled them on the counter. "Take a shower. Take a bath. Whatever you'd like. Enjoy yourself."

She smiled.  _I'm sure that'll come easy_ , she thought. "Thank you, Oliver."

* * *

Felicity turned on the faucet and let the rumbling water fill the tub and calm her nerves. She repeated the same mantra in her head as she unzipped her boots.  _Sleep or chat. Sleep or chat._ She unbuckled her belt and unlaced her bodice, changing her mantra to a more acceptable one.  _Only sleep. Only sleep. Take the bath and then go to sleep._ As she slipped out of her suit, she realized how little she trusted herself in her current predicament with Oliver Queen in the next room. Her mantra quickly turned into a prayer.  _Please just let me take a bath and then go straight to sleep._

The water was scorching hot, sending up roiling clouds of steam. Once the water was high enough, she flipped on the jets and watched the clear water swirl and bubble to obscure the surface beneath. She poured in some eucalyptus and spearmint bath oils and breathed in the deep, relaxing aromas. She sighed.

Before stepping in, she turned the temperature over to cold to even everything out. She put one foot in, then the other. Slowly, she submerged her body into the jet-tossed water and rested her neck in the small, pillowed groove designated for such a position. She closed her eyes and let all of her stress fall away.

She had no idea how long she'd been in the tub, but suddenly she heard a knock beneath the rumbling of the jacuzzi jets. "Uh, yeah?" she asked, suddenly feeling her nervousness return.

"Felicity, can I come in?"

She looked down to find the turbulence in the water perfectly obscuring her body beneath. "Uh, I guess...?" She quickly grasped a washcloth and attempted to cover her more private area just in case, but the jets sent it spinning about. She crossed her arms over her breasts and bent her legs up, hoping to obscure her body more.

Slowly, the door creaked open and Oliver tip-toed in. He was in a loose pair of jeans and no shirt, with his feet bare. His muscles were tense, as if he'd been unable to find the relaxation Felicity had.  _He's Oliver Queen. He's the Green Arrow._

"Are you enjoying the bath?" Oliver asked awkwardly, clearly struggling to keep his eyes on her face and not linger down to other areas.

"Uh, well, yeah. I found that oil. It's really helped get me relaxed."

He nodded. "Yeah, it's good stuff."

A strange, uncomfortable silence filled the space, bringing back Felicity's prayer.  _Please just take a bath and then go straight to sleep._ Then she added a command.  _Do not! I repeat! Do not have sex with Oliver Queen!_

She looked up after a few moments to find Oliver staring at her face, a look of admiration in his eyes. "What?" she asked, feeling a blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

"Nothing," he said simply, glancing down at his feet. Then he looked up with a look of guilt written on his face. "Sorry," Oliver continued as he eased himself onto the ground and sat with his legs stretched out towards the tub. She could tell he found it easier to think when he didn't have a chance at seeing her body. "I never meant to make you feel incapable of joining me in the field. It's just that I don't trust myself to protect you out there. After the mission went wrong five weeks ago, I realized just how deeply this guy has us fooled. We're blind to his movements until he gives us permission to know. I just-"

"You don't wanna lose anyone else," Felicity interrupted, growing impatient. "I understand, Oliver. There's no need to apologize. Plus, I think this bath more than makes up for your overprotectiveness." She winked, and he smiled.

"Glad I could make things right," he mumbled, barely audible over the roar of the jets.

Felicity nodded as she held up a hand and looked at her fingers. She had clearly been in the tub longer than she had realized; her fingers we wrinkled and pruny. She chuckled. "As relaxing as this has been, I think I need to get out before I absorb too much water." She held up a hand to show him. "I need these beauties to work their magic on a keyboard.

Oliver laughed as he stood and grabbed a towel for her. He came up next to the tub and held out the towel. "I promise I won't look," he said, turning his head and closing his eyes.

She watched him for a few moments before slowly bringing herself to her feet and stepping out of the tub. She grasped his hands to signal that she needed the towel, but he wrapped it around her body himself, still keeping his eyes closed. She held the towel up as he brought it around her, but he kept his hands on her back. She looked up to find him looking at her face and nothing else.

Her heart was pounding, and she was sure he could feel it at her back through the fluffy green towel.  _Do not have sex with Oliver Queen! Do not have sex with Oliver Queen._

But she looked into his eyes and suddenly everything melted away. The Master, being drugged, their almost-kiss. Everything disappeared. And then his head was tilting and leaning down towards hers, and she was making herself slightly taller with her tip-toes. He pulled her closer and she felt the warmth of his skin against hers.

Their lips were so close she could almost feel them, but far enough as to not touch, and the sensation was killing her.  _Please,_ she begged internally.  _Walk away now. Walk over to your bag and begin digging out your crap. Make him leave._

But she stood there, waiting.

Finally, he bridged the infinitesimal gap and their lips met. His were soft and gentle against hers, and she relished every spot their skin touched. Eventually his lips moved more quickly, and she followed without pause or fear. She quickly forgot about the towel and reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held onto her waist, keeping the fabric in place.

Their passion was controlled. He pushed no boundaries and she didn't make any moves to change that. For a moment, their mouths separated and she opened her eyes to find him grinning.

"What?" she asked.

"I had no idea how much I wanted that until this moment," he replied, and she watched as a faint hint of red colored his cheeks.

"Me too," she admitted, and brought her lips back to his.


	20. Baring of Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver recalls the events after he and Felicity's first kiss...

Oliver gazed at the ceiling, rarely blinking. All about him, a tangle of sheets stretched across his body and Felicity's, shrouding their forms in a sensual modesty. Felicity's head rested against his shoulder, and he could hear the breathing of deep sleep escaping her mouth. The warmth of her body next to his brought him a wonderful peace he hadn't realized was missing in his life. He combed his fingers through her blonde hair, relishing the softness of each strand.

He recalled the night they had spent together and couldn't help but smile.

* * *

_Four Hours Earlier_

He held out the towel and turned his head, closing his eyes for good measure. It took a few seconds for him to hear the jets cease and Felicity step up from the tub's depths. He kept his eyes closed, even as she signaled to him through touch to give her the towel.

But he couldn't release the fabric. Something convinced him to wrap it around her himself, and even when she made to take it away from him, he refused to let go.  _What are you doing, Oliver!?_

He opened his eyes and looked at her face, admiring every aspect of it. Every perfection and imperfection. Then she looked up, catching him in the act. His hands at her back twitched slightly before he brought her closer to him. He tilted his head, bringing his lips as close to hers as he could without making contact.

After a few moments, he impatiently brought his lips to meet hers. He was gentle, cherishing every sensation the warmth of her skin gave him.  _Is she feeling the same?_

As if in answer to his internal question, her arms wrapped around him. He kept his arms at the small of her back, holding the fabric in place. Their lips moved passionately, but with enough control to keep them from crossing any boundaries.  _Don't fuck this up, Oliver._

After what seemed an eternity, he allowed their lips to part slightly. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. He grinned.

"What?" she asked.

"I had no idea how much I wanted that until this moment," he replied, and he felt a warmth spread up and across his face.

Without hesitation, she answered. "Me too."

As if nothing had changed, her lips merged with his and they lost themselves. He tried his best to hold up her towel, but the intensity of her kisses brought his hands to cup her cheeks. The towel hung loose between them, exposing her back and everything else. Soon his fingers ran down the back of her neck, tracing her spine all the way down. He stopped at the small of her back once more, hand lingering there and drawing circles across her skin. All the while their lips moved perfectly in sync.

Her hands brushed through the hair at the nape of his neck and then slowly came back around to rest on his chest. She broke away, letting her forehead rest against his lips. He kissed it obligingly. She spread her hand out, allowing her palm to rest over his heart. She glanced up with a smile.

The look on her face gave him pause.  _She's so different from everyone else..._ he thought as the faces of every other woman he'd been with rushed through his mind. It triggered thoughts he'd been ignoring for months. Felicity moved to continue kissing and he held back, bringing his hands to the towel, wrapping her up once more. He tucked one edge in, securing it around her before stepping back. He looked at her, basically naked and vulnerable. The look on her face was one he'd never seen before, from anyone.

A mixture of lust and disappointment.

"What's wrong, Oliver?" she asked.

He watched her mask those emotions too late, finding the face of a proud woman as the replacement. He frowned, unsure how to begin. "Felicity, I..." he trailed off, attempting to dig up the right words to salvage the situation and the potential relationship they had so quickly created. "I want this. I want you. But... not like this."

"What do you mean?" From her tone, he sensed she was irritated.  _And why shouldn't she be? She's a grown woman. She's chosen this. I've chosen this._

"Felicity, I... I truly care for you. I've been trying desperately to ignore that. For months. Since the moment I met you, really. I used other women as distractions, because that's what I do. That's what I did. And this," he gestured around at the tub, her towel and his attire. "This is how I might've started relationships in the past. Sex first, relationship second."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Okay...?"

"I think you deserve more than what I've given every other woman at the start."

"Oliver," she began, stepping forward and touching his cheek. He closed his eyes at the touch, but only for a moment. "I don't see how this is an issue."

He removed her hand from his cheek and leaned back against the countertop. Her words sunk in, challenging what he was feeling.  _How do I explain this...?_

"Everyone has always said that I worshipped the Lance sisters. I always put them first... Well, first for me. They were always at the losing end of the relationships, but I always put them on pedestals. And I've been doing that even after Sara died. But," He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. "But, I've been doing the same with you, even more so. It just wasn't obvious."

Felicity snorted as she attempted to hold back laughter. "Oliver, you  _do not_ worship me."

"I do," he said, slouching slightly with the discomfort of the conversation. "I've always treated you like a porcelain doll. Every time you've put yourself into danger, I've been angry. I've been protective. And yet I was willing to throw Sara into the line of fire. And I said I loved her? No. I didn't care if she got into trouble. From day one I didn't care."

He stopped himself, realizing that he was quickly painting himself as a villain, and he didn't like what he was seeing. But he soon brought out more.

"I once said that I could never be with someone I could truly care about. What does that mean about my relationship with Sara?" As he waited for her to answer, tears began forming in his eyes. When she remained silent, he continued. "Felicity, it means I honestly didn't care. I pretended to care. And all the while I kept you out of harm's way as much as possible. This is different."

He stood up straight and made his way out into the bedroom. He heard Felicity's bare feet following on the tile. He turned and collapsed onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. "What kind of man am I?"

He felt Felicity sit next to him, and he glanced between fingers to see her watching him lovingly.

"You're a man who has been through a lot. You're a man who has been convinced of so many things, mainly from separation. You worshipped the Lance sisters because you felt they were your connection to home. Once you got home, you tried to continue that. But you're not the same man you were before. They definitely weren't the same either." Felicity fell silent, and Oliver watched as she contemplated the rest of her words. "If what you're saying is that you've ignored your feelings for me because they are real and because you feel that your life is too dangerous for a relationship, I'd like to remind you of something..."

Oliver fought back a grin as Felicity pulled him up to face her. She grasped his face in her hands and looked him square in the eyes, and he was mesmerized by her intensity.

"Oliver, I chose to live this life. I chose to work with you even after we found Walter. I chose to stay, regardless of the consequences."

Oliver attempted to look away, feeling the embarrassment of his assumptions of weakness. Felicity had always been strong, and he had always ignored it.

"Oliver," she whispered, inching closer to him until she seated herself onto his lap, her legs dangling against his off the bed. "I want this. I want you. And I'll be damned if you're over-protective hero-complex is gonna get in the way... so please-"

He didn't let her finish. His lips melded with hers, squashing her final words and leaving them unspoken. His arms wrapped around her, slowly loosening the fold of the towel. Her hands dropped to his waist and her fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans. Without hesitation, he stood up and lifted her with him. Her success with the button was quickly realized as his pants drooped awkwardly down. She wrapped her legs around him, tightly.

Their lips moved aggressively with their new passion, and their tongues danced to follow suit. They were soon collapsed on the bed, fighting against the jeans and underwear still restricting him. Oliver finally squirmed out of them, blushing at the lack of skill he was showing Felicity, but she didn't seem to notice. He peeled the towel away from her body and relished in the beauty of her every curve.

He kissed along her collarbone, making his way down between her breasts and enjoying the warmth of the flesh around her heart. She traced her hands across his chest, down his sides, feeling all of the untouched skin he imagined she had admired often. At her hips, he ceased his decent, conscious of how close they were to moving too far. Away from everything they were used to and into a new territory. A territory he feared would be the end of them.

But in the end he didn't care.

He kissed along the lines of her hipbones, purposefully teasing her. She giggled as his lips tickled her, but she never stopped him. Soon his mouth reached a much desired location, leaving kisses and licks here and there.

"Oliver..." she whispered, shakily. She refused to let him answer as she pulled him up and forced him onto his back. "Your turn. Fair is fair." She giggled as she straddled him, and he tried to ignore the perfection of their current position. He let her trace his every scar, leaving each one with a kiss before moving on to the next. All the way down his chest to more unseen areas. He marveled at her skills, enjoying every move of her tongue and touch of her lips.

He quickly realized that he had underestimated her ability to choose her own path; he had repeatedly stifled her opinions and desires. Their current position signified all of that pent up desire and all the ideas and daydreams that had danced around their brains.

She stopped suddenly and slid her body against his as she brought her lips back up to his. Soon she was straddling him once more and he had no choice to allow her to take control. In the past, he might have called all the shots. But now he was powerless.

The moment their bodies melted together caused both of them to fall silent, their breathing quick and shallow. Felicity rested her head on his chest and gripped his shoulders. The smell of the eucalyptus and spearmint swirling around them off of her skin. They didn't move. They didn't speak. The only sounds were their breathing and the creaking of the old house surrounding them.

The warmth of her body soon overtook him and Oliver quickly took hold of her and rolled them over. He looked down at her surprised expression, seeing fire in her eyes. In the past he might have said something ridiculous to appear more sexy and more experienced. He might have made a quick comment about how great things would be and how she'd never want to leave the bed.

But now he couldn't speak.

He couldn't ruin such a powerful moment.

He couldn't ruin something so perfect.

So he remained silent. He brought his lips to hers and allowed the pace of the kisses to lead the way.

_Two Hours Earlier_

Oliver had never been one to enjoy pillow talk, that post-coital intimacy that demanded the baring of souls; complete emotional openness. He'd never been good at it. He'd never felt the desire to keep the romance alive in the form of whispered stories and declarations and promises.

But suddenly all of those things seemed right.

Felicity giggled, trying to keep herself from speaking.

"Come on, Felicity," he begged, kissing her nose. "I told you about my Boyz II Men obsession. You gotta give me something embarrassing."

"Or what?" Felicity glared playfully. "Will it be the  _end of the road_?"

Despite the horrendousness of her joke, he laughed hysterically. He'd laughed often during their quiet chats between throes of passion. I couldn't remember a time he had felt so free and alive. "I'll pretend you didn't make that joke."

"Okay, okay..." She took a deep breath and covered her face with her arm. He turned onto his side and watched her. "In college, I went through a pretty dark phase."

"What do you mean by  _dark_?"

"I was, well, kinda goth for a while. Well, cyber-goth with a stint in hacktivism."

"What the fuck is cyber-goth and hacktivism?"

Beneath the arm, Oliver could see Felicity's face turning bright red. He gently coaxed her into uncovering her face and he kissed each cheek, feeling the flush.

"Well, I guess cyber-goth isn't a real thing. I had black hair. I wore black lipstick. I thought I could hack for a good cause."

He smiled. "Well, technically you were right. You  _can_  hack for a good cause."

Their conversation shifted from topic to topic. Serious. Funny. Heartbreaking. Self-deprecating. No subject was off-limits until it came to his time on the island. His time in Hong Kong. And all the time in between. He wasn't ready to reveal everything. He let little bits slip, and she showed him grace and acceptance when he requested for the subject to change. They were at ease with one another for the first time ever, and he cherish every moment.

* * *

Oliver watched as Felicity slept. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, the telltale sign of life so often taken for granted. He brushed through her hair, untangling it. He found himself smiling, which he never did when he was alone.

But he wasn't alone. He was, for the first time in a long time, truly sharing a space with another person and forging a connection. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. She stirred slightly and grinned, then fell back into deep sleep.

Without knowing where the words had formed, he whispered three words into her ear, eliciting another grin. "I love you."


	21. First Time For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity spend an easygoing, relaxing day at the Queen Mansion. But their comfort and ease is cut short by another clue from the Master.
> 
> Author's Note: Please leave some comments and let me know how you're enjoying this story so far! I'd really love some feedback!

When Felicity awoke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She recalled the events of the night before and smiled. Then a sudden fear washed over her. The spot beside her was empty, cold without Oliver's heat to fill it. For a moment she felt stupid, as if she had been treated like a throw-away lover. He left her there. He hadn't woken her. He truly was the play-boy the world believed him to be.

Then she shook her head. She was in his home. It wasn't as if he would be far away. She glanced about the room, finding her towel at the top of a laundry hamper along with his jeans.

In the midst of her assessment of the room, the door creaked open and she found Oliver carrying a tray full of food. When he saw her sitting up in bed, he grinned. A slight blush crept up his neck and settled in his cheeks. "Morning," he mumbled as he closed the door with his bare foot.

"Morning," she echoed, smiling as she covered her chest with the sheet.

"Come now," Oliver chided. "There's nothing there I haven't seen..."

She glanced away from him, embarrassed. He was right. They had exposed themselves fully the night before, emotionally and physically. They had marvelled at every part of one another. She nodded, letting the sheet fall back to pool in her lap. "True."

Oliver set the tray at the end of the bed. Felicity eyed it with longing. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the intense aroma of bacon wafted up to meet her nose. "Mmm... Smells so good."

"There's enough for the both of us," Oliver said, picking up a piece of greasy bacon and tearing it in half with his teeth. He handed her the rest of it and she nibbled on it without hesitation. "And just so you know, I cooked all of this myself."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure you did..."

"What? You don't believe I can cook?"

She shook her head.

"Well, I'm insulted by your lack of confidence."

"Whatever. Let's just eat."

They continued to eat, letting silence fall between them. Once all the food was gone, Felicity got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. She dug out a pair of torn and faded jeans, a flowery tank top and a new bra and pair of underwear. She showered quickly, then slipped into the outfit. As she was brushing through her tangled hair, Oliver entered.

For a moment he simply stared. Then he smiled. "Why don't you wear jeans more often?"

"I work at a multi-million dollar company with high standards and a secretive vigilante that doesn't give me much time to go home to change before fighting crime. I don't have much free time to enjoy casual attire."

After the words spilled out she knew they made the atmosphere slightly uncomfortable. She looked at Oliver to find him frowning. Before she could apologize, he spoke. "Well, I suppose I should remedy that," he said, then added: "Or you should keep some more comfortable clothes at the foundry."

"Maybe."

She grabbed her make-up bag and started emptying out the contents. Before she could begin applying concealer and foundation, Oliver touched her hands and led her out of the bathroom. "No need for that, Felicity."

She eyed him, finding his demeanor easy and relaxed; something she'd never experienced from him before. "What will we be doing today?"

Oliver leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Pretending the world isn't full of bad guys dead set on killing us."

* * *

They spent the day doing a variety of things. For a while they had lounged in his bedroom, napping in each other's arms. For a few hours, Oliver had rested his head on her chest while she read _Pride & Prejudice_. Once the day had dragged on and the afternoon light began to fade, Oliver led her away from the mansion and out onto the grounds.

She'd seen the mansion before, and she'd glimpsed the expansive gardens and sprawling lawns from the windows, but was unsure what all the estate had to show. Hand-in-hand they walked the graveled paths through fragrant greenhouses, Oliver giving brief back stories on the construction of each one. Finally they were enveloped by a small grove of trees. To Felicity's surprise, they came upon a large pool with a waterfall cascading down. The surface of the water was covered with a thin layer of steam, signifying that it was heated.

"I had no idea you had this!"

Oliver chuckled. "Being a millionaire playboy has its perks," he said. He kicked off his shoes, then bent down and slowly rolled up his jeans. He sat at the pool's edge and dipped his feet in. He glanced up at her and patted the space beside him.

She followed his lead, kicking off her ballet flats and rolling up her jeans. Once she plopped down next to him, she leaned to the side, allowing herself to rest comfortably against him. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer.

It seemed an eternity before either one of them moved or spoke. The sky had darkened and the only light around them was the illumination from the pool lights, casting a washed out pale glow to the world.

Oliver nudged Felicity, and she looked up at him with a grin. "Yeah?"

"Wanna go for a swim?"

She looked down at the water, finding their legs and feet abnormally pale beneath the water. It was warm compared to the outside chill, and she couldn't deny how desirable that warmth was. "I don't have a suit," she responded lamely.

"No one comes out here at night," Oliver said with a mischievous wink. "Have you ever skinny-dipped?"

The question brought hysterical laughter from deep within her and she almost couldn't stop it. She looked up at Oliver's face to find him patiently waiting for her to calm down and answer. He was clearly serious. Taking in some calming breaths, she said: "I actually never have."

Without hesitation, Oliver pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it onto a nearby chair. "First time for everything, then."

He stood and unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxer-briefs. Without looking at her he jumped into the water, the splash drenching her. He surfaced and came to stand in front of her, resting his head on soaked knees. "Come on," he pleaded. "Join me."

Deep down she felt that she shouldn't.  _I should be wondering if Digg and Roy found anymore Master clues. I should be wanting to go home and marathon something on Netflix. I should be questioning all of this._ But she wasn't.

She stood and slipped out of her clothing. But she did not jump in. She walked over to the stairs at the far end, teasing Oliver with the sway of her hips. He followed her the whole way, watching her with eyes reflecting the pale pool lights. She grasped onto the railing and took the first step, then another. He did not wait for her. He ascended the steps and took her into his arms, much like a husband might pick up his bride to carry her over the threshold. Gently he brought her into the water, allowing her to float in his arms.

She nuzzled against his neck, feeling his pulse; feeling how alive he was.

Soon the depth of the pool dropped and Oliver was somehow treading water and holding her up. She sensed the effort and quickly pushed away from him. He did not stop her. She swam away from him, looking back over her shoulder playfully before diving down. When she surfaced he was right beside her. He leaned in and kissed her gently.

They soon found themelves swimming beneath the wall of water and she discovered a deep artificial cave behind the cascade. She floated to a seat at the edge and sat, the water coming up just below her breasts. Oliver remained in the water, gazing up at her.

For a while they remained like that, watching one another in silence as the waterfall roared behind them. Then he inched closer, pulling her back in. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. The warmth of the water mixed with the warmth of his skin was intoxicating.

He whispered into her ear an even more absurd question and she shook her head in answer. He kissed her cheek and then said a little louder: "First time for everything."

Much later they shuffled into his bedroom, clothes clinging awkwardly to their wet skin. Oliver went into the bathroom and started the shower, leaving Felicity alone. She went straight to her phone, conscious of her neglect. She turned on the lock-screen to find numerous alerts and notifications, all from Diggle and Roy.

**Diggle: A new clue, call me.**

**Roy: URGENT new clue**

**Diggle: Need you ASAP**

**Diggle: Where are you?**

**Diggle: NEW CLUE. Not good.**

Along with these and fourteen other similar texts, there were ten missed calls. She quickly called Diggle, her heart racing.  _I knew I shouldn't have ignored my phone._

"Where have you been?" Diggle asked without greeting. "We've been in a panic for the last two hours!"

"Sorry. I can't explain-"

"You need to get to the lair as soon as possible, Felicity. We got a new clue, and it isn't good," Digg interrupted, followed by Roy in the background shouting: "Make sure she brings Oliver!"

"We'll be there soon."

She hung up just as Oliver opened the bathroom door, steam wafting out into the bedroom. She frowned. "Diggle has been trying to reach us," she mumbled. "The Master has left another clue."

Instantly Oliver's relaxed demeanor switched, falling into taut and painful stress. She watched as he tugged the legs of his pants down and slipped his shoes back on. "Let's go," he said coldly, quickly making for the door. All she could do was follow.


	22. Queen of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I will not put in a summary for this chapter. It was difficult to write and I'd rather you guys read it without a hint of its contents beforehand. 
> 
> Please leave a comment or give some kudos. Both are much appreciated.

They made it to the foundry in what Felicity assumed might be record time. The whole car ride over was consumed by a silence so deep that Felicity wondered if there was any way for them to come up to the surface. They parked a block away from Verdant and walked the rest of the way, Oliver keeping a rigorous pace that made her grateful she had one flats instead of her typical heels.

The echo of their feet on the metal stairs leading down into the lair signaled Roy and Diggle. Felicity watched them turn, anger and frustration written clearly on their faces. They eyed her and Oliver critically and then, suddenly and without any context, Roy began to laugh.

His bout of hysterics lasted a couple minutes. "Roy!" Diggle shouted over the laughter. "What's your deal?"

Finally Roy fell silent and looked at Felicity and Oliver once more, wiping his eyes of the laughter-induced tears. He glanced at Diggle, then gestured to Oliver and Felicity's clothes. She looked down and then felt her cheeks heat up. Her clothes were still damp from the swim, and her hair was a mess of unruly, chlorine scented hair.

"You guys were having sex, weren't you?" Roy asked, blunt as always.

Beside her, she heard Oliver release a low growl of annoyance. "Where's the clue?"

Ignoring Roy and his suggestive winks and gestures, Felicity looked to Diggle for answers.

"Well, now there's two," Diggle answered, and turned to the computer screens. "The first one we received was this one." He clicked a button on the keyboard and a message ran in a continuous loop.

_Queen of the World_

Behind the words were roiling flames of green.

"We kept trying to get in touch with you, but you were  _clearly_  preoccupied. After you finally answered, we got this live video feed." Diggle clicked another button and the right-hand screen came to life with a video feed of Moira Queen tied up high above Starling City, dangling outside of a floor-to-ceiling window. Her mouth was covered with bright green duct-tape.

Felicity glanced beside her, finding Oliver even more tense than he was on the drive over. After a moment, he turned toward her and whispered: "Track it."

She rushed to her chair and scooted closer to the monitors and madly began typing, searching for entry to the feed's security. But nothing was working. "I can't get past his encryption. This guy is seriously a genius." She studied the video feed, trying her best to ignore Moira and focused on the skyline behind her. She inserted an image from the feed into a software she hadn't tried yet and within moments, the location was blinking wildly in answer to Oliver's request. "He has her at the very top floor of World Bank."

Without hesitation, Oliver suited up and rushed toward the stairs, no words spoken to any of them. Roy remained perfectly still. Diggle watched the feed. But Felicity couldn't take it. "Oliver, wait!'

He stopped in the middle of the stairs, his posture tight and straight. She met him and stretched up, kissing his cheek. "I love you," she whispered, followed by: "I know you said the same to me when you thought I was sleeping."

The slightest hint of a smile touched his lips before he turned and left the lair, the door locking behind him.

As she made her way back to her desk, she heard Roy chuckle. "Holy shit," he mumbled, watching her. She glanced at Diggle to find him smirking in obvious approval. She ignored them both as she tracked Oliver's movements, longing to bring him back to her, safe.

* * *

Oliver raced through the streets on his Ducati, keenly aware of Felicity watching his progress. He knew soon he'd hear her voice dictating directions and other information necessary for the rescue attempt.  _No. Not an attempt. I will rescue her._

In his mind, her words echoed and reverberated through his body.  _I love you._

He had imagined those words being spoken by her in much different circumstances, but if he were being honest, it didn't matter how they were spoken. The most important part was that they were spoken at all. There was no reason for any glamor and romance.

He stopped the bike, finding World Bank towering over him. High above, he knew his mother was there, dangling at the behest of a madman. It was late enough that all the windows were dark. Except one at the top floor. The green and white light glimmering from that window sent nervous tremors down his spine. He reached for a grappling hook arrowhead and attached it to the end of one shaft connected to an endless amount of cord.

He aimed and released, listening as the arrow soared and whistled up. The cord grew tight and he followed the arrow, flying high above the city. Soon he was up in the room, watching his mother struggle against the ropes holding her captive outside of the building. His hood kept his face hidden. Moira made noises behind the tape, desperately begging for help. He knew he shouldn't. He knew his instinct was wrong. But he tossed his hood back and pulled off the mask, exposing his face.

His mother fell silent, gazing at him with first shock and then admiration. He nocked an arrow and shot loose the ropes. She began to fall, her muffled screams tearing into his heart. He nocked another arrow, another one hooked to cord and shot. The cord wrapped around his mother's waist and he was soon pulling her up, precariously close to falling from the edge.

Once she was safely inside the building, he carefully uncovered her mouth. "Oliver..." she whispered, breathing heavily. "I- I don't know what to say..."

He grinned. "You don't have to say anything." He touched his hand to his ear and spoke softly. "She's safe."

"We can see that," Felicity said, happiness clear in her tone.

"Good job, Oliver," Diggle said.

He set to work at untying the ropes around his mother's ankles, shocked at the expert knots and winding patterns. Once the ropes were free he discovered a small device tucked into the side of his mother's heel. Suddenly, flames trickled out, engulfing her legs. She screamed.

"Felicity!" Oliver shouted, hoping she could hear the plea for help in his voice. But the flames were much quicker than he'd ever seen, making their way up Moira's body, eating away at her clothes and skin. Tears were cascading down her face as she begged for help.

Oliver unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto his mother's body, hoping it would squelch the flames, but it simply burned through the leather, destroying the hood that had been so pivitol to his identity for so long.

Soon all was silent. The aggression of the flames had devoured Moira's life, ending it right before Oliver's eyes. He knelt beside the remnants of her body, the sickening scent of cooked flesh biting at his nostrils, sending him into a wave of nausea. He bent lower and vomited, feeling his insides roiling and aching. After the last of the queasiness passed, he collapsed. The coolness of the tile beneath his head brought him little peace. Tears slid down his face and he covered his eyes with his bare arm, shaking all over.

With an agonizing attempt at breathing, he mumbled one word. "Mom..."

 


	23. Interlude : Clean-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, an Interlude from our villain, The Master

He watched as Oliver sobbed, losing all of his normal Arrow composure. From the empty building across the way, with a set of high-end Swarovski binoculars, he could see the pain he'd inflicted upon Oliver Queen. The knowledge of his success made him smile.

 _I did say the ones you love would burn, Mr. Queen,_  he thought with a slight chuckle.  _Perhaps now you'll take my threats more seriously._

Soon Oliver was speaking. From the feed, he heard Oliver talking to the team, requesting their help to take care of the incriminating evidence to link Moira's death to the Arrow. While he might have made it impossible to hide, he gave them this one. It would be no fun to destroy Oliver Queen when he was at his weakest; this well-designed execution was simply to test the waters. How weak could Oliver Queen become?

The team arrived within ten minutes. Record time.

Felicity quickly rushed to Oliver's side, cradling him in her arms as he sobbed, a new bout of despair taking over. He rolled his eyes. The Arrow was supposed to be tougher than this.

Finally they all began cleaning up the green tape and lights, taking away everything that might point to them. He smiled. Even if they weren't connected to it, the loss was still there.

Moira Queen was dead, and no amount of clean-up would heal the wound her death would leave behind.

The Master laughed as he packed up his binoculars and his laptop, then made his way home, already plotting his next move.


	24. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Moira Queen's murder brings new highs and lows to Felicity and Oliver's relationship. 
> 
> Author's Note: I wanna thank everyone who has commented or left kudos for this story! I hope you'll all keep reading and leaving feedback! I rely on your support! THANK YOU!

A janitor found the remains of Moira Queen's body later that night, signaled by the putrid stench. Felicity had listened in on police chatter through her tablet while Oliver slept. He had tossed and turned, murmuring in his sleep. Felicity wondered if that might not be out-of-the-ordinary for him.

The police kept the discovery under wraps, unwilling to release any information to the media without identification via dental records. Rubbing at her eyes, Felicity dozed off. She was jolted awake by confirmation that the remains were Moira Queen's. She quickly scanned through news outlets and discovered that it hadn't taken long for the information to get out. A big-haired, blonde news anchor rattled out the story.

" _Starling City's most talked about matriarch, Moira Queen, was found dead in the executive office of World Bank this evening. Her body was burnt beyond recognition, resulting in the necessity of dental records to identify the remains. No leads, at this point, as to who might have committed this heinous act, but no doubt many citizens of Starling City will find justice to have been served."_

Felicity switched off her tablet and crawled into bed beside Oliver. He stirred, turning to face her with a look on his face that made her heart break for him all over again. He scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head into her chest, breathing deeply. Soon he was snoring lightly. It didn't take long for Felicity to join him in restless slumber.

But they were soon interrupted by the distant sound of the doorbell. Oliver bolted out of bed, his posture regaining confidence. They both knew who would be on the other side of the front door.

"Stay here," he mumbled as he pulled on a sweatshirt and left the room.

It was still dark outside. The bedside clock read 4:23. Soon the morning would rise and Oliver would have to break the news to Thea, if she hadn't already heard from someone at Verdant. Felicity ignored Oliver's command and tip-toed out the door, following him at a distance. She knew very well that he heard her, but he was clearly not in the mood to argue.

She remained in the shadows stretching all over the entrance hall as Oliver unlocked the door and opened it just a crack. Through the gap she could see Quentin Lance, his officer's uniform pristine and completely wrong when paired with his attitude. "Oliver..." Quentin stammered, his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry that I have to be here for this reason, kid."

"What is it, sir?" Oliver asks, feigning confusion as he opened the door fully and lets Officer Lance in. He leaves the door open.

"Tonight we found the remains of your mother at World Bank. It took us quite a while to identify her remains, but we know for certain it's her. I'm so sorry, Oliver."

Oliver's shoulders slumped and he hid his face in his hands.

"If you'd like, I can tell Thea for you as well..."

Oliver shook his head. "I appreciate that, sir, but I think it'd be best if I were the one to tell her." His voice was gravelly with the pressure of unshed tears.

"Of course," Quentin said, dipping his head sadly. "I'm sorry for your loss. I want you to know that the SCPD are doing everything in their power to catch the sick bastard who did this."

"Thank you, sir."

As soon as Quentin Lance was gone and the front door was locked, Oliver collapsed onto the floor, his back braced against the ornately carved wood of the door. Felicity went to him without hesitation. She sat beside him and allowed him to rest his head in her lap as he cried, less powerfully than before, but still wracked with complete devastation. She didn't allow them to stay there for long.

"Oliver, we can't stay here. This is not how you want Thea to see you before you tell her," she whispered into his ear. After a moment, he nodded in frustrated agreement, groaning as he sat up. "Go back to bed for a while. I'll keep an eye out for Thea."

They both returned to his bedroom. Felicity went back to her perch on the couch, watching an episode of  _Supernatural_  while she listened for any signs of Thea's arrival.

* * *

The funeral was held four days later in the Queen family plot. Only close friends and family were allowed to attend, but dozens of citizens from the Glades were present at the gates to picket and protest. Their signs were insensitive and fowl.

_No one mourns the wicked!_

_Don't mourn the traitor!_

_Killer Bitch!_

_Queen No More!_

_Justice for the Glades!_

Oliver kept his eyes away from the signs, but Felicity watched as Thea eyed them with disgust. They had all com to terms with Moira's sins, accepting that she had been forced into complacency. But so many in Starling City still viewed her as a mass killer. Promoter of genocide. No one saw Moira Queen as a mother trying to protect her children.

The service was quiet and to-the-point, keeping the prayers simple and the eulogies quick. Oliver's words were spoken tightly, etched with subdued emotions.

"I might not have always seen eye-to-eye with my mother, but she was always there when I needed her. When I returned to Starling City after five years stranded, she was there always attempting to comfort me and understand. Her family always came first, and for that I will always respect her." He took a moment and tossed a flower into the open grave and onto the casket holding nothing more than burnt remains. It was his wish to have her lowered into the plot beside his father's, feeling that at least one of his parents should be physically accounted for amongst the headstones. "I love you, mom..."

* * *

They returned to the mansion in silence. No reception would be held at the estate, as agreed upon by both Thea and Oliver. They felt no desire to plan such a gathering when all the condolences would be forced and clearly fake. They preferred to mourn privately.

Felicity lingered in the doorway of the bedroom as Oliver ripped off his tie and tossed it onto the floor. He undid his shirt cuffs and quickly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the scarred torso beneath. She knew she'd never learn the stories behind each one; too much pain was connected to each one. But she knew the emotional scars Oliver possessed were much more prominent, and this new one would only add to the burden.

He looked up at her with eyes full of conflict. Within the icy depths was heartache, desperation and, almost crudely reflected, desire. She remained perfectly still, unwilling to make a move. It was not the time for such things. But his face almost demanded her.

He began to pace, his posture almost violent. Deadly. She watched as he slowly lost control and kicked at furniture, flinging off his shoes, and punched at walls, his shirt flapping open and closed with each movement. She quickly closed the door, her heart beginning to race. She feared the close proximity, but was certain it was better for him not to be alone.

She slid out of her heels and went forward, stopping him mid-stride. She took his hands and kissed each one. She glanced up to see him looking at her, rage and desire still at the forefront. She buried her arms into his shirt and hugged him, her face resting against his bare chest. His heart was pounding and his body was shaking. She pulled away and look up at him again, marveling at his height.

"Let me take care of you," she whispered, then took his hand and led him into the bathroom. He stood in the center as she turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature of the water to a perfect heat. She poured in the soothing oils she'd used her first night there, letting the eucalyptus waft with the steam. It was already calming her nerves. She looked back at Oliver to see him breathing deeply, his eyes closed. She switched on the jets and watched as they churned the water.

She walked to Oliver and hesitated with her hands out-stretched. If she were in his position, a hot bath and a comforting hand might be the only thing to get her through the pain. But Oliver was a different personality. He had his demons. His ghosts were too numerous to count, constantly haunting him.  _He might not be as crazy as Slade had been, but that doesn't mean he's untouched by the past..._

She let her fingers slide up to the collar of the shirt. She slid it off, letting the white cotton fall to the tile behind him. He breathed deeply once more and opened his eyes, watching her every move. She unbuckled the belt and pulled it out from the loops, his waistband drooping slightly without the tightness of the leather. Her fingers fumbled with the button to his pants, and she silently cursed her nerves.  _Just breathe, Felicity. It's not like you haven't done this before._

With one fluid motion, Oliver was standing naked but for his socks. She knelt down and tugged at the black woolen socks until he finally stepped out of them, one at a time. She kissed a long white scar just above his knee, making him twitch with surprise. While his naked body was tempting, her desire to help him emotionally outweighed her desire for intimacy.

She stood. Disappointment was clearly written on his face, but she ignored it. "Get in. This is for you," she said, gesturing to the tub, which was almost full. When he didn't move, she took his hand and led him there with a sigh. "This will help you."

He stepped in as she turned the faucet off. He sunk in below the rush of the jets and fell back, his head resting in the cushioned crook built into the marble. She knelt beside the tub watched him release all of his woes. His body relaxed, muscles losing their tension and his face fading from sadness into bliss. Soon she felt relaxed herself.

She reached over and stroked the line of his jaw. He glanced sideways at her, his lips turning up slightly at the corners; the amusement did not, however, meet his eyes. "Join me?" he asked softly, his voice almost drowned out by the jets.

She leaned back and watched him, her mind racing.  _It's clear what he wants,_ she thought as she studied the intensity of his stare.  _And it's obvious that I'd love that too... But is it... appropriate?_

She knew it was complicated. Oliver was a complicated man. And as much as she'd like to believe their relationship was simple, there was nothing simple or easy about it.

"Felicity," he said, reaching for her, water dripping onto the floor in front of her. "Please."

She sighed, unable to argue her way out of it. It might be a time to mourn, but they both needed closeness; they needed one another. And while she knew the old playboy Oliver Queen might have done this same thing, it wasn't difficult to see this was for a different reason.

He needed normalcy. He needed to know that he had something solid and comforting and real to get him through the chaos that so easily destroyed his life regularly. She knew he needed her. And she couldn't help but to admit that she needed him.

She stood and gazed into his eyes as she unzipped her dress and let the black fabric slide off of her body to pool at her feet. Her black bra and panties remained, and she felt uncomfortable taking them off, as if she'd never undressed around him before. His eyes followed her every move as she unlatched the bra and pulled it off, then tugged the panties down and stepped out of them. She could see the hunger in his eyes, slightly dulled by his sadness.

She stepped into the water and sat down at the other end of tub, letting her feet rest beside Oliver. His face fell with disappointment, but he seemed accepting. She grasped his left leg and began massaging the toned muscles of his calf, kneading out the tightness there, then repeated the same with his right leg. He leaned his head back and enjoyed the attention, but she knew he wished for something different.

After some time spent in silence, letting the jets rumble and beat against their bodies, Felicity moved forward. She sat in his lap, straddling him and grasped his face in her hands. He grinned, letting his eyes bore deeply into hers. "I've been waiting," he mumbled before letting his lips crush against hers and his hands drift up and down her back, drawing shapes into her skin.

It was undeniable that she shouldn't have drawn the bath. Inwardly she cursed herself for putting them in such a position.  _Oliver's in mourning and yet here I am, straddling him like nothing happened..._

His hands fell below the water and grasped tightly at her ass, bringing her closer to him. She bit his lower lip as electricity boiled in her veins at his touch, and he growled in response. Within seconds they were one, the hot water making everything so much easier. He gripped her hips as she moved and their gasping moans echoed against the marble covering so much of the bathroom. Each motion brought more of them together, filling Felicity with sensations stronger than she'd ever felt before. He sat up to pull her even closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to deny how much she had wanted this; in the same way that Oliver had needed it.

Any awkwardness or hesitation Felicity had felt disappeared as Oliver pulled her face close to his and kissed her with something she could only assume was gratitude.


	25. Awkward Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a week away from the foundry, Oliver and Felicity return to find Roy and Diggle in two very different mindsets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for leaving your kind comments and kudos! I'm so happy more people here on AO3 are enjoying this story! I hope you'll keep leaving comments and spreading this fic around! Again, thanks so much!!!!

The sun was bright, shimmering and bouncing off the roiling water of the pool as Oliver swam laps. Felicity lounged at the pool's edge, sprawled out on a towel with a book resting before her precariously close to the edge. Every few paragraphs she'd look up, admiring Oliver's carefree demeanor. She knew it wasn't real. She knew deep down he was on fire, punishing himself for his mother's death. But there were moments she swore she saw true peacefulness in his eyes.

Her back was heating up, the skin hidden beneath sheer lace clearly tanning. The back of her legs felt the same, and the phone in the back left pocket of her shorts felt heavy. For days she'd received texts and calls from Diggle, all of which she ignored. The voicemails were another story. She couldn't keep herself away from them. Each one was more heart wrenching than the next, and the last one she had listened to made her tear up. She never let Oliver know about them. She kept him out of the loop as much as she could.

Roy had sent a few, but it didn't take long for him to lose patience and send one hateful text that still made Felicity feel guilty.

**You know what, fuck you Felicity! You're not the only one in love with a Queen.**

_I probably deserve that,_ Felicity thought. She had requested that Roy keep an eye on Thea after Moira's death, knowing that the Master would be plotting to rid Oliver of his little sister next. At first Roy had been eager to protect her, even enlisting Sin's help. But that last text told her that Roy was losing faith and hope without his mentor there to guide him.

She shook herself out of her guiltiness and looked up to find Oliver watching her, his chin resting on the edge by her book. "Where were you just then?" he asked, blinking away a few drops of water from his lashes.

She faked a smile. "Just enjoying the day," she said, hoping her lie was convincing.

Clearly it wasn't. "Your face tells a different story, Felicity."

She sighed. "No, really," she said, injecting as much cheer as she could into her voice. "This is a beautiful day. I'm here catching some sun and I'm able to watch the most gorgeous guy alive swim laps and occasionally admire me. I've got it made!"

Oliver chuckled halfheartedly, then leaned forward a bit, letting his lips linger against hers. Felicity closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. After a few moments, she pushed him away. "You're getting my book wet!"

"It already looks pretty damaged. What's a few soaked pages?"

She reached a hand into the water and splashed him. "Go back to your laps!"

He listened, sinking below the choppy water and torpedoing toward the opposite end of the pool.

She dove back into her book, enjoying the escape it gave her. As she turned the page, her phone began to buzz. The twentieth time that afternoon. Her guilt came back in waves and forced her to her feet. "Oliver," she called. He stopped his lap and raised an eyebrow. "I'm getting some tea from the house." He nodded and continued his progress.

She walked away into the trees surrounding the sunny poolside. She leaned against one pine and dug the phone out of the pocket. The ID on the screen read:  **John Diggle**

She answered. "Hello?"

"Felicity, this has to stop," Digg chided, his voice full of anger and annoyance. "I know you're trying to care for him. But this will not help. You're throwing all of the work on us and we can't do it all."

"I know..."

"Felicity, he can't protect Thea if he's pretending there's no threat."

John's words sunk in and triggered the fullness of her fault. Tears sprang to her eyes with newfound fury, falling down her cheeks and splattering her chest. "Digg, I'm so sorry. I just don't know what to do."

"You have to convince him to come back to the foundry. We need you to be here if another clue comes in. If we can track it-"

"I know, Digg. I know," Felicity murmured, wiping at her eyes. "I'll try."

"Felicity, if you love Oliver, you can't just try. You have to succeed."

She nodded, hoping the gesture would give her greater courage. "We'll be there later tonight, I promise you."

Diggle hung up without another word and Felicity walked toward the mansion, trying to remember what she told Oliver she would be getting.

* * *

Oliver broke the surface of the water to find Felicity standing by a patio table. She held up a glass of fresh iced tea, signaling for him to join her. As he slowly floated toward her, he admired her. The white jean shorts hugged her thighs, reminding him of the smoothness of her skin and the warmth they possessed. Her loose floral tank top fluttered in the breeze as she poured a second glass of tea, revealing the skin of her belly. He tried to keep her naked body from his mind, but it was his new favorite thing, beside kissing her.

He pulled himself out of the water and grabbed a towel, patting away the water before wrapping it around his lower half. He collapsed into the chair beside her and rested his head on her shoulder.  _How is she even here with me?_

She handed him a glass and he took it gratefully, taking a large gulp. He glanced at her and discovered her brows furrowed and eyes distant. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up straight, his usual tenseness returning.

"We can't keep doing this," she said, her voice shaky.

"Doing what?"

"This." She waved her hands about vaguely, allowing the gesture to encompass both of them and the estate. "We can't keep pretending like we're not in danger or that the world outside this place doesn't exist." He attempted to speak but she placed a finger to his lips and shushed him. "It does exist. And we have to get back to work."

He nodded sadly.  _I'm a fool to believe that I can ignore everything._

He pushed his chair closer to hers and kissed her lightly on the cheek, smiling at the contact in spite of the inevitable return to darkness and danger. "Can it wait a few more hours?"

"Oliver-"

It was his turn to shush her. He brought his lips to hers, crushing her words easily. He took the cup from her hands and placed it on the table before pulling her into his lap. "I want to enjoy you a bit more before we go back to reality."

Leaving the pitcher of tea alone on the table, Oliver carried Felicity all the way back to the mansion, stopping occasionally to let loose a flurry of kisses along her neck. She giggled in spite of herself. Once they were in the mansion, he didn't take the trip up the stairs. He rushed to the nearest room: the library. He shifted her in his arms until her legs were wrapped around him and their lips were locked. He didn't bother to close and bolt the door; no one would bother them there, as all the cleaning had been done that morning.

He pushed her up against the towering shelf, kissing along her jaw and letting her grip his neck with biting nails. With her braced against the shelf, he let his hands wander down to her loose shirt, burrowing his fingers beneath the fabric to rest on her warm bare skin. She traced a scar on his chest and nibbled on his ear, once again giggling. But when his hand came up to her breast, she stopped him.

"Oliver," she whispered breathlessly.

"Yeah?" he replied, trying to wriggle his fingers out from her grasp.

"As much as I love this... and I seriously do," she took a breath, closing her eyes. "I mean, who wouldn't like to have sex in a library. It is sexy and nerdy and everything I've ever imagined. And this is the library to do it in... god. Ugh. We can't."

He placed a hand on her cheek and she leaned into it instinctively, as she'd done so many times before. "Why can't we?"

"We really need to get to the foundry."

"But," Oliver mumbled pitifully, then he sighed with a nod. He moved away from the shelf and let his arms fall, guiding her to the floor. "You're right," he admitted, then added with a playful wink: "Sadly."

"Oh, believe me, we will reconvene as soon as life deems it appropriate!"

* * *

They pushed open the door to the lair, hands full of Big Belly Burger bags and a drink carrier with fattening shakes. Felicity hoped this would ease the tension, but as soon as they came to the bottom stair, she knew nothing would help.

Diggle was at the computers, face in his hands, breathing in deeply. One monitor was running security diagnostics, one had local news and the other was scanning police chatter. Roy was at the sparring mats, beating his fists into a punching bag, making it swing back and forth. His eyes were wide with rage and the back of his shirt was drenched in sweat.

"How are things looking?" Oliver asked, dropping the food onto the table. Felicity followed, carefully setting the drink carrier down.

Diggle rubbed at his eyes and turned his chair slowly. His face was unreadable, but Felicity knew beneath the calm exterior, he was ready to burst. "Things have been quiet. Not even a bank robbery. And no new clues."

"Well, that's good," Felicity said as cheerfully as possible. "And I see you've been running diagnostics the way I showed you." She leaned forward, hands braced against the desk as she watched the code scroll and the news anchors babble about Moira.

"Yeah," Digg said. Then he leaned in and whispered: "Thank you for coming back. I understand how hard it is to leave the love bubble."

She grinned. "Incredibly hard," she admitted, then stood straight. "We brought Big Belly Burger. Figured you'd need some greasy sustenance."

From the sparring mats, Roy laughed sarcastically. "Right, because junk food makes everything better after you leave all the work to half the team so you can spend a week fucking."

"Roy..." Oliver growled out in warning. His stance changed from nervous to defensive as he watch Roy make his way around the salmon ladder and into the circle. "Don't..."

"No, Oliver! You don't get to act like what you did was okay."

"Nothing happened, Roy," Felicity said, her voice going shrill with growing panic. Roy's and Oliver's postures spoke of potential fights and gruesome wounds. "The Master didn't send any clues, no major crimes needed fighting. Everything was fine. We're back now."

"Well, I'm not in the mood for a team reunion if it is filled with buddy-buddy bonding and milkshakes, all right?" With one punch to the food-covered table, Roy rushed up the stairs and out the door.

For a moment, Felicity thought she would leave it alone. Let him be alone. But then her anger bubbled up suddenly, catching her by surprise. And before she knew it, she was following Roy out into an alley behind Verdant. The sky had darkened. The alley was flooded with green neon light from Verdant mixed with the red emergency lights from the surrounding warehouses. It made the situation feel dangerous. She took a breath and then stood her ground.

"Roy!"

He stopped and slowly turned, his jaw clenched tight and his hands balled into fists. "What?"

"I'm sorry!"

He shook his head. "No. An apology won't cut it."

"Nothing happened while we were gone!"

"That's not the point, Felicity."

She looked down, finding her heels covered with scuff marks. "Talk to me."

For a long time they just stared at one another, both unwilling to move or speak. But then he stepped closer, bringing his intensity into her space and sucking out any confidence she possessed. "Felicity, you guys are the only family I got. And I know Oliver just lost his mother, and he's lost other people too. But if I lose you guys – if I lose Thea or Sin- I have no idea what I'll do."

"That's not gonna happen, Roy."

"Oh really? Did you expect Moira Queen to bite the dust? This guy is insane, and I can't be the only one out there keeping an eye out. We need you two. And I know, you're in love with him. But I'm in love with someone too..."

And with one last glance up at her, Roy walked away. Felicity watched him leave, wondering how long it would take for him to come back.

* * *

Oliver watched Felicity follow Roy, unwilling to stop her.  _She needs to mend bridges the same way I do..._ Oliver turned to John to find him grinning.  _Well, that's unexpected..._

"Enjoy your lover's tryst?" Diggle asked, his grin widening into a smile.

"Digg-"

"No, seriously, Oliver. I understand it. I might not like that you neglected the mission, but really, it's nice to know there's a human being beneath all of that angst and brooding."

Oliver chuckled, digging out a french fry from the back. He stuffed it in his mouth, savoring the saltiness. "Well," he murmured between bites. "Well, we're back. And we're not going to disappear again."

After a moment of silence, John Diggle stood and made his way over to the table. He took one of the shakes and sipped it. Licking his lips, he nodded. "Good."


	26. Quiet

Being back in the foundry was strange after so long in romantic oblivion. Felicity drowned herself in her computers, letting each screen take on a different task. Beside her, up in the air, Oliver went up and down the salmon ladder. The  _clang clang_ of each pull up rang in her ears.  _I never knew how much I could miss that thing..._  she thought, trying to keep her eyes on her security diagnostics and not on Oliver's glistening, chiseled body.  _Is it normal to want someone this much?_

On occasion, she'd stare at the case that contained Oliver's leather suit. Usually a symbol of strength and justice, it now stood unfinished. The pants were tight on the form, but there was no jacket; whatever remained of the jacket and hood was buried with Moira's charred remains. The staple of Oliver's vigilante persona was no more, leaving him with only a mask to stretch across his face to outline his eyes and brow. He was no longer  _the Hood._

"We can replace it, you know," Diggle whispered into her ear after catching her staring.

"It wouldn't be the same," she murmured, glancing up at Oliver hanging from the topmost tier. She knew the hood symbolized more than just a fight for justice in Starling City. It was a homage to Shado and his time on the island. It was everything.  _How can you replace something with so much meaning?_

"Well we need to get him something," Diggle said matter-of-factly. "He can't run around with just the mask. Too many people would figure out his identity.

 _It's a wonder they haven't already,_ Felicity thought to herself. "I'll figure something out. Don't worry about it."

Diggle smiled, patting Felicity gently on the back. "You're good to him, Felicity. You're what he needs."

"I know." The words made her blush. It was so obvious to her now. All her expectations before were met and exceeded tenfold. She wondered what she might have done with her life if Oliver hadn't brought her into his world...

* * *

It was late. John Diggle had already left the foundry. After leaving him in charge of things for a week, Oliver demanded that his friend take the night off. After a long argument and stubborn glares, Diggle finally left. Oliver knew he'd thank him the next day.

He paced the sparring mats, unsure of what to do. It seemed like an eternity since he'd been there, and the overwhelming quiet seemed to weigh him down. The only relief came from the  _click click_ of Felicity's fingers against the keyboard. He watched her, unable to focus on much else now that he was alone with her. For so long he had kept his distance, refusing to accept his feelings and the intensity of them. He had kept her keyboard noises and constant mutterings muted, trying to zone in on only his mission. Romance could not be in the driver's seat.

But now the roles were switched. All hesitation was gone.

He watched as Felicity bit her lower lip in frustrated concentration, eyes squinting at the screen. He'd seen her do the same thing so many times over the last week, but for other reasons. The expression stirred desire within him, nudging him forward. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She jumped at his sudden touch, then chuckled. "Geez. You're so quiet," she said, turning to look into his eyes.

"Great for crime-fighting and bad for relationships."

"If it were anyone else, I'd call it creepy, but it is who you are."

Hearing her say those words made him smile. "I'm not just a vigilante," he murmured.

"Of course not," she interjected. "You're so much more than that. I wish you had been reminded of that sooner. Might have saved you a lot of trouble."

"Well, I know that now."

For some time they simply looked at one another, his arms still wrapped around her. Slowly she swiveled her chair, forcing him to back away. Once she was facing him, he knelt in front of her, resting his head in her lap. She stroked and massaged his neck, easing the tension there like she had so many times throughout the last week.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and husky.

"For what?"

"Reminding me of who I am."

She stopped her hands, leaving them just at the nape of his neck. He moved and looked up at her, slightly irritated by her cessation. He found her eyes brimming with unshed tears behind her glasses and a small smile on her lips.

He brought her into his arms, instantly sensing the joy she was experiencing and let himself melt with her.

It wasn't long before they were against a wall, their kisses sweet but frantic. He relished the taste of her lips. After a few minutes, she giggled. The sounds reverberated in his mouth, sending a shock of electricity up his spine.

"What's so funny?" he asked, breathlessly.

"I'm just thinking about those few minutes in your library," she said, letting some more giggles escape into his mouth.

He nipped at her lower lip. "Yeah? Wish you were there?"

She nodded.

"Well, if we hadn't agreed to man the foundry..."

"We owe them more than that," she chided.

"I know..."

"We  _will_ make time for that, eventually though."

"Of course," he mumbled and then let his eyes close and his lips crush against hers, pressing her closer to the wall. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close as possible. His tongue danced with hers and his fingers traced her sides, slipping beneath her shirt to spring goosebumps up across her skin.

He stepped backwards and tugged on her shirt, urging her to follow him. She obliged, eyeing him with a hungry gaze that made him even more insistent. Soon they were on the makeshift bed, their clothes littering the floor piece by piece. Once they were down to nothing, Felicity grinned. "How are we supposed to man the foundry like this?" she asked.

Oliver chuckled. "Well, we're still here, aren't we?"

* * *

Felicity left Oliver sleeping, tangled in the sheets like a snoring warrior god. She tugged on his t-shirt, enjoying how his scent enveloped her, then sat in front of her computers. She let herself get lost, tracking police chatter and combing through her security codes, strengthening weaknesses and building up new defenses.

She was there for hours, her fingers dancing along the keys, every now and then pushing hair out of her face.

The world outside was boring and the silence within the foundry was deafening. She sat back and stretched, the sound of her back popping echoing slightly. She slipped off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes, feeling the late hour pulling her toward sleep. She fought the desire for dreams.

When she returned her glasses to their perch on her nose, she was greeted by a video feed filling each one of her three screens. Every camera was from a different angle but capturing the same subjects. Her and Oliver. In bed. Their passion from hours before played in front of her. And running along the bottom of the center screen was string of text.

" _We feel most alive when we are closest to death..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The Master's text at the end was a quote I scrounged up from a Goodreads quote search. I searched creepy and death. It is from Terrorscape by Nenia Campbell. I've never read it, but I thought the quote worked so well with the situation. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, regardless of it being so short. I promise the next one will be longer and filled with multiple POVs (maybe even some Roy POV!). And after that it will be time for another interlude with our villain, and I know you're really freaked out by him right now! Don't forget to leave a comment and kudos, and share this with others if you enjoy it! Your support means the world to me! :D


	27. So CLose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for not updating this sooner. I've been so busy and the conclusion of this chapter kept eluding me. But I got major inspiration today and was able to get it finished! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave comments. They mean the world to me and keep me going. Also, if you follow me on tumblr, please please please like/reblog the fic update post so more people can find this story! You guys are amazing! Thank you so so so much for continuing down this disturbing road with Team Arrow! <3

Roy paced the apartment floor, keeping his eyes away from her. For so long he'd let his conflicted emotions lead him in opposing directions. One pair of arms when he longed for another. She simply remained silent, as if letting him brood over his issues were the best option. He loved her for it. But he didn't love her enough.

"Roy, you don't have to do that, you know..." Sin said, shifting her position on the ancient sofa. "It's not a big deal, really."

Roy shook his head and clenched his fists. "It is a big deal."

"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow that made his heart ache over his confusion. Her expressions and constant sarcasm had helped him through so much in the last few months, starting at that moment Oliver had demanded he break up with Thea. Sin had been there for it all. They had mourned the loss of Sara together, in many ways.

"It isn't easy."

"Since when has your life been easy, Roy?" Sin laughed, letting the tension of the situation ease slightly. Roy grinned. Her use of his nickname always kept him in good humor. But in this moment, it was a tiny relief.

"True," he admitted, glancing at her as he collapsed onto the floor. "But I owe you more than this, Sin."

"Stop torturing yourself. It is ridiculous and, honestly, it doesn't make things change."

"I do love you," he murmured, and then he saw her shake her head. "What?"

"Don't say it, because I won't."

The intensity of the truth of those words hit him hard, and he realized he had enjoyed their little bit of something.  _Whatever the hell it was..._ Hearing her say she wouldn't return the endearment rushed into his pride and reminded him of all of Oliver's lessons. But keeping emotions bottled up had never solved any of Oliver's problems, so why would it solve his?

"Roy, there wasn't anyone you really wanted other than Thea, and I knew that going into this," Sin continued, her eyes sad but confident and controlled. No tears. No nonsense. That's what he loved about her.

He got up and crossed the small space to sit on the sofa, resting his head on her shoulder. Her pale cheeks were growing rosy like he'd seen them do so many times before. "Can we still be friends?"

She laughed, taking him by surprise. "Did you think that us being fuck-buddies and me falling for you would mean our friendship disappeared? You've always been my friend, Roy. That's never gonna change."

It was his turn to blush.  _I'm such an idiot._ "Thank you, Sin."

She kissed his forehead and nudged him off her shoulder playfully. "Anything for you, Abercrombie."

* * *

John Diggle woke to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Beside him, Lyla stirred but did not wake. He turned and grasped the phone. The ID read:  **Felicity Smoak**

He answered it before the final ring. "Felicity?"

"Digg, the Master planted cameras in the foundry."

John bolted upright in bed, bringing Lyla out of sleep and his heart to a thudding pound. "What do you mean?"

After a moment of silence, Felicity spoke, her voice small and nervous. "He sent me feeds from cameras set up in the foundry. We're dismantling them now."

"Are you sure there aren't more?"

"No. We're looking for more though. You don't have to come back, I just wanted you to know. If he was able to plant them here, it is possible he has cameras in our homes. I mean, he already did it to me, why not do it to everyone else."

Diggle nodded and glanced toward Lyla. Her brow was furrowed in concern as she reached over to her own phone. John shook his head, knowing she was ready to call for A.R.G.U.S. "Have you called Roy?"

"Not yet."

"Felicity, he has people he cares about too," he said, his voice gentle but scolding.

"I know," she answered. "He's next on my list."

"Good. I'll see you guys in the morning." He ended the call and was immediately bombarded with questions from Lyla. He answered each one, recounting their troubles with the Master and his new concern about security and safety.

He watched as Lyla glanced about the dark room, then turned on her bedside lamp. She grinned and said: "Well, I guess it's time to check for hidden Master cams."

* * *

Roy slipped by the last patrons leaving Verdant, fist bumping the bouncer on his way through. He looked towards the bar and found Thea seated at the very end counting up the night's take-in, bills stacked in neat little piles. The green lights scattered about the club shimmered off her sequined cocktail dress. Roy watched her for a few moments, taking in her every feature and wondering why he hadn't done so before.

After counting another stack, Thea looked up and caught sight of him. She smiled almost instantly, leaving his heart pounding. "Hey, Roy," she greeted him, motioning for him to sit on the stool next to her. He obliged. "What are you doing here? Don't you have some crime-fighting to do?"

"What?"

"Please... I know it's you running around with the green guy. At least he was kind enough to get you a suit. That red hoodie wasn't fooling anyone"

Roy blushed involuntarily.  _Too bad I haven't had much chance to wear it lately..._  "Yeah, well-"

"It's cool. What you're doing, I mean. Saving people. Keeping the Glades safe."

Roy glanced up at her to find her face full of complete sincerity. "Really?"

"Of course."

For a long while they sat in silence, allowing for Thea to finish counting. Once she was done, she slid off her stool and walked toward the stairs. He followed her, unsure why. Up the stairs and to the right, they found themselves in the club's office; Thea's office. She deposited the money bag into the safe and locked it. Roy admired her seriousness in the task, finding so much of Moira in her expressions. He felt a twinge of sadness. He might not have liked Moira, but without her, Thea would never have turned out the way she had.

Thea turned around, catching him staring. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing. I just..." He took a step forward and reached for her hand. She didn't pull it away from him, but let their fingers lace together. "I miss you, that's all."

"You see me all the time, Roy."

"No. I mean..." He sighed.  _I'm such an idiot._  "I mean I miss  _us_."

For a moment she remained quiet, keeping her gaze away from his. He waited for her response, completely still and watching her, reminding himself that perhaps she would say no. Perhaps she was still hurt and more interested in being alone. Maybe she wasn't alone.  _Did I miss something?_

"Roy..." she murmured, shaking her head. "I miss us too, but I just-"

Roy's phone began to buzz, and he closed his eyes in frustration.  _Why now...?_ He pulled his phone out with a groan. Thea held up her hands and rolled her eyes, bringing the ache in his heart to a new level. He glanced down at the phone to read the ID.  **Felicity Smoak**

"Thea, I-"

"Roy, it can wait. Go save the city. I understand." Her eyes were sad, making him thrust his phone into his pocket and step forward. He gently grasped her wrist and pulled her to him. She finally met his gaze and everything within her eyes told him that she wasn't going to say no. She was willing to give him another chance. Her eyes closed and he did the same, bringing his lips to hers. It was instantaneous. The spark had never left. They weren't as distant as he had assumed.

Their kisses lasted for a while until his phone began to buzz again.

Thea pulled away and giggled. "Roy, as much as I enjoy this, I have to close the club and you have to answer that call. We can pick this back up later."

Her eyes were no longer sad, and the weight he had been feeling for months seemed to lift. He gave her one last peck and smiled. "See you later."

Once he was down the stairs and walking toward the security door, he answered the phone. "What?"

"The Master has cameras in the foundry. He may have them in our homes."

"Well, shit."

* * *

They stood in a circle around the table, staring down at the three tiny devices blinking idly. Felicity had disabled them, but she was still unsure if they were connected to the Master's systems.

"Were there any in your home, Digg?" Oliver asked between clenched jaw.

Diggle nodded. "Yeah. There were."

Felicity's heart sank. She had hoped no one else had been stalked and filmed by the Master; she had hoped that she was the only one who felt that sort of violation and fear. But when she looked at Diggle, she could tell it was just another day for him. He and Lyla had already been through so much.  _A creepy unidentified genius woodcarver stalker is just another day in Team Arrow, I suppose._

"Were you able to learn anything from the cameras?" Oliver asked her, and she felt the weight of his worry and leadership descend onto her shoulders.

"Uh, well, I," she stammered as she picked up one of the cameras and began tossing it from hand to hand. "I downloaded the software necessary to run these cameras and see their footage, but everything was deleted as soon as it was filmed. It must all be connected to the Master's systems. He did leave a slight tell of his location, though."

Roy's mouth dropped open. "Then why aren't we out there tracking this sick bastard down?"

"Because the only information I know is that the footage was being routed to a system in the Glades. The south side of the Glades to be exact. But considering the amount of residences and business and all the tech those buildings contain -stolen or legally obtained- I can't really lock down a location. In the end, he's like a disgusting needle in a haystack, and for me to track him, I'll need more than just a broad idea of his location. And, come on, it isn't like we can just leave the cameras around..."

The group grew rigid, and Felicity cursed beneath her breath. Oliver pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Felicity, are you okay with the idea of leaving any of the cameras in the mansion up for the time being?"

She stared at Oliver for a few moments, a slight panic filling her chest.  _How can that be a good idea?_ Then she noticed his gaze flitting toward her tablet and it all clicked in her head. "You want me to-"

He simply nodded in response, cutting off her words. She grabbed her tablet and her purse, heading for the door. "Lets leave. The night has been pretty quiet anyways."

"Keep us in the loop, Felicity," Diggle said, narrowing his eyes.

She smiled. "Of course."

The drive back to the mansion was quiet. Before they had driven away, she checked for any devices hidden in the car and found nothing. They spoke freely, but nowhere as comfortable as they had the days and nights before their return to the foundry. But the radio played lightly and Oliver tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beats. It didn't take long for her to let loose, singing along to the songs as they played. Every once in a while she'd catch Oliver glancing sideways at her, his eyes bright with so many amazing things that she had always hoped to see from him.

Joy.

Affection.

Desire.

Love.

They arrived at the mansion and quickly rushed to the bedroom. They kicked off their shoes, letting them rest dangerously near the door. They lost themselves in powerful kisses and embraces, knowing they would have more pressing matters to attend to.

"Oliver," she whispered, panting against his lips. "Can we just relax for a bit?"

He growled in annoyance but nodded, bringing them to the couch. Felicity took the tablet out of her purse and Oliver picked up a book. They curled up on the couch in the corner, tangled up. Felicity feigned playing  _Candy Crush_ while Oliver pretended to care about  _A Game of Thrones_. In any other circumstance, she might have forced him into really taking in the story, but beside her failed levels of  _Candy Crush_ was a scan of the room, detecting two cameras.

One in the bedroom.

One in the bathroom.

She felt disgusted and dirty, a pawn in some psycho's sick game. All those nights and days filled with intimacy of all kinds flickered in her mind, now distorted as if viewed on a security camera. The overwhelming urge to vomit filled her stomach. She breathed deeply, sinking deeper into Oliver's embrace. Instinctively, he tightened his arms and kissed the top of her head.

After an hour, the scan picked up data being sent from the cameras. She quickly jumped up and paced the floor, letting her thumbs fly over the touchscreen, typing away. Fighting to break through and follow the data as it traveled through the cloud and multiple internet connections. Across the outskirts of Starling City and into the heart of the Glades. It dashed around multiple addresses in the south side of the Glades before disappearing. She ran a few programs, tracking the movements she recorded, finding the one address that was focused on more than the others.

"I got it!" she shouted, raising her fist to the air in triumph. Oliver jumped up from the couch and wrapped his arms around her.

"You're amazing, Felicity."

She blushed. "I know," she said, then shook her head. "Well, I mean, I know my skills are amazing. But I'm not cocky. Well, maybe I am."

"You have a reason to be," Oliver replied, bringing her free hand up to his lips and letting a gentle kiss linger against her skin, sending goosebumps up all over her body. She blushed once more.

"I better call Roy and Digg. They need to meet us at the address before the Master realizes we're onto him."

* * *

Roy and Oliver stalked the rundown apartment for a while until they decided no one was coming in or out.

"Think he's in there?" Roy asked, skepticism pouring from his tone.

"Maybe," Oliver answered, his hands twitching anxiously. "Let's get this over with."

They moved silently, Felicity and Digg safe in the foundry tracking their movements. The building was abandoned, and the signal had sent them to a basement apartment with a wide stairway leading down to the entrance. They gingerly descended the steps and flanked the door, looking at one another for reassurance. Oliver took a deep breath and then nodded. They both stepped in front of the door and Oliver kicked it in. Once the clattering of the door ended, they stepped inside, finding the dark room empty but for hundreds of statues, all hand-carved and painted perfectly to mimic their inspirations.

Oliver stared back at himself in many forms and styles, finding what he saw unnerving. Everything was so accurate. But the most accurate of all the statues were the ones in the likeness of Felicity.

Her blonde hair that caught the sunlight brilliantly.

Her pink, flavored lipstick that he loved to taste.

Her glasses that she constantly pushed back up the bridge of her nose.

Her fitted pencil skirts that hugged her curves in all the right places.

Her wonderfully sweet smile that brought butterflies to his stomach.

Everything was spot-on.  _How can he have every detail so perfect?_

The desk across from the front door was completely bare, but multiple cords hung from behind the wall, hinting at an elaborate set-up that had been hastily dismantled and moved. Oliver's heart collapsed in his chest.

"We weren't quick enough," he murmured into the comm. "He's gone."


	28. Interlude : Diner

He watched them from the alleyway across the street, hiding behind a cluster of trash bags, pallets and discarded furniture. He sigh in relief, satisfied with his narrow escape despite his inability to save his most precious creations.

 _Oh well,_ he thought with a shrug.  _I can always make more._ And he knew he would. His obsession with Team Arrow was too strong to keep his hands from carving and his mind from racing. He had ideas. He had plans. He eyed Oliver Queen from his hiding spot in renewed interest.

_How far can I push him before he breaks again?_

He rubbed at his calves, feeling the ache in the muscles from his crouching position. As the Team inched their way into his hideout, he stood and scurried away, blood flowing back into his toes and stinging. As he rounded a corner he collided with a petite young woman.

"Watch where you're going, you creep," the girl hissed, her whole body exuding teenage angst.

For a moment he ignored her. Then recognition hit him. He turned and watched her as she sauntered away toward an old diner.

She was Roy's friend.

She was the next piece to the puzzle he was slowly and intricately destroying.

With a wide grin, he changed his destination.

_I'm a little hungry for some old-fashioned diner food, anyways..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and supporting this story! Don't forget to leave comments and kudos! I know these interludes are frustrating and annoyingly short, but writing from the perspective of a disgusting, villainous creep is kinda disturbing. And I also don't like giving away too much...


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